Dirty Little Secrets
by Caddaren
Summary: Saphira awakes from a night she can't remember, sick, hungover, and pregnant? Can she and Eragon escape the clutches of those who want her eggs and figure out who did this to her, or will they fly straight into the hands of people who would hurt them most?
1. Hungover

Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.

Dedicated to Wolf Howls Echo Thru Stillness, who iss the genius with a rough plot behind this story, thank you!

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"Saphira, are you alright?" Eragon held her giant head in his hands and placed a hand on her cheek, waiting for her to respond. _Saphira, please answer me! _He looked her face over, feeling through their connection that she was coming back to consciousness.

Saphira groaned and scrunched her eyes tighter together, hoping to drown out his loud, obnoxious voice. She swiped a paw out and grabbed at the thin air in front of her, trying to hit him so he'd stop shouting so loud. "Saphira..." She growled and rolled onto her other side, wanting to go back to sleep.

Eragon turned to the elf standing next to him, concern all over her face. "Arya, will you get some water?" The princess nodded before heading off, leaving the rider and dragon alone. Eragon returned to Saphira's side and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Saphira," he whispered, "what's wrong?"

Saphira barely heard Arya's departure, and it took her a minute to understand what her rider said. She raised her head and searched the area for him, her eyesight fuzzy and eyes hurting, she was able to make out the general things. Some large trees and bushes here, some rocks and grass there. She was vaguely aware she was resting against the rough truck of one of the towering pines. The blood pounded to her head and she had to lay it back down to not pass out, feeling nauseous.

_Eragon?_ She saw his eyes closing as he entered her mind again. Eragon cringed as her pain hit him in full waves. He knew what was wrong with his dragon as soon as he felt her symptoms. _What's wrong with me? __She asked groggily, trying to stand. His hand on her head pressuring her back to the ground, h_e held firm until she laid down in defeat. The bright lights dimmed at his word and he offered her a gentle smile.

_You have a hangover, _he replied. Saphria groaned again and held her head in her paws, purposely putting the cool part of her palms on her eyes. Eragon smiled a thanks at Arya when she brought back a wooden bucket with water like he asked. He dipped a hand in to cool the liquid but the spell was minor and took no time at all.

_This is going to be cold Saphira, but it's for your own good. _He cupped a bit of water in his hand and tickled it onto her face, kneading it into the scales around her forehead. She shook her head at first, not liking the ticklish feeling at all, but he persisted. Eventually, she laid her head back down and let his finish cooling off her head.

A low growl escaped from low in her throat when itchy dirt rubbed up under her scales, digging into her soft underbelly. She shifted and pulled her legs underneath her, preparing to stand. Eragon took a step back to avoid her massive head but watched carefully. She rolled to her feet with a groan, shaking most of the sand out easily. Saphira kept her eyes closed but she could feel Eragon's relief when she yawned slowly, making her head pound harder as she tried to ignore the fact to keep him happy.

Soft footsteps approached her and her rider, along the calming voice of Arya and a strange smelling liquid. By the sound, a small cat came through the bushes followed by a familiar woman. Angela and Solembum had came to her aid; news of her disposition must have reached the witches ears quickly.

"Ah, Saphira, darling! I do believe you should avoid the alcoholic drinks from now on, but fear not, I have the perfect remedy for you." The dragonness opened her eyes to see the were-cat weaving in and out of the brunettes witches feet, as if agreeing with her choice of words. Arya nodded in encouragement when their eyes met, confirming her trust in the witches craft.

"The effects are instantaneous, but will only last for a few days," Angela moved forward and motioned for Saphira to open her maw, proceeding to pour the rich blue liquid from the flask."I suggest you try to gather yourself quickly as possible." Eragon must have sensed her worry, he placed a cool hand on her burning forehead and looked to her medicine maker.

"Are there any side effects?" Angela shrugged at first and prepared to walk off but Eragon stopped her with a warning expression, making her tip her head and laugh.

"Only a few minors ones, headache, hunger, loss of awareness as the drug wears off, and if you are due to coming into heat in a few days do not panic if it is late, it prevents some secondary bodily functions, but other than that, you'll be a sharp as a pinprick soon enough!" The way Arya's eyes downcast didn't help their nerves, the inseparable pair exchanged a look.

Saphira saw something in her rider's eyes she did not like at all, and when she glanced towards Arya, the elf looked away. She was hiding something, and Eragon knew this. Saphira resisted the urge to stand tall and growl down at the elf.

Eragon hugged her snout gently when she instead tipped her nose down to deeply exhale on him. A large smile crept onto his face despite the situation, assuring her he felt they were safe in the hands of their friends. But doubt slithered back into her mind, warning her to recover soon. She snagged the back of his shirt as soon as he let go and plopped him in her saddle, making him chuckle before strapping himself in.

She felt relief flood over her and sighed happily, regaining control of her thoughts and muscles, testing them all out thoroughly before snapping her wings open to launch into the sky with her rider safely on her back. "_Do you think it would be best if you walked a ways before flying again, your still not fully sober..?"_

She snorted in disagreement but thought over his statement, he had a point, if she were to loose control of herself in flight they would both surely plummet to the ground and die on impact. But she had confidence in her abilities and hoped to prove to Eragon she could handle herself.

_"I will not let you fall little one, __she whispered through their connection._He shook his head and muttered something under his breathe before looking up and staring straight at her.

_"It's not myself I worry about, but stopping a falling dragon would damn near kill me,_" he snorted. She smiled softly at him and sent soothing sounds into his head but rolled her shoulders regardless. She could sense his apprehension, the tension in his muscles as she crouched to take off. She would just have to prove to him then. She shot into the air and heard him him yelp in surprise as she did.

Her toothy grin grew in size. She felt Eragon cling onto one of her spikes and knew he was closing his eyes. "_Wimp," _she snorted at him.

He narrowed his minds eye at her, "_oh hush, humans weren't meant to flyyyyy!" _His mental voice gave way to a scream as she dove from treacherous height. She laughed at him and bugled for the surrounding forest to hear.

In her will to prove him she was fine, Saphira had accidentally over exerted one of her wing muscles. She ignored the strain for as long as she could, trying to convince herself it just needed stretching. Suddenly her left wing gave and they were diving again,

Saphira roared in surprise, pain, and desperation. Eragon shouted, trying to enter her mind but found it receding. Saphira's lungs burned as she tried to suck in enough air to stay conscious. The sky was ripping it away far too fast, she couldn't get enough. As a final resort, Saphira trashed her working wing, trying to slow her giant body before she creamed her body and her rider into the ground.

300 meters and counting.

She watched the ground speed closer, and felt Eragon's hold on her neck tightening. "_Eragon..." _She breathed into his mind, and she felt a dull pulse as an answer. His arms slipped away, panic filled her. Her blood pumped faster, her eyes widened, her useless wing flared with the other.

200 meters.

Saphira roared and this time fire spewed from deep in her throat. She turned her head so the flames wouldn't hit her. She needed an idea, a plan. She needed to save Eragon!

She splayed her legs out to catch more air, throwing out her wings to slow her descent. It was working. She strained to regain her left wing, forcing the muscle to move. The pain blocked her sight; she could not long see the ground edging closer.

This was not her day to die, and it was not the day she was to cause not only her death, but Eragon's also. She growled and forced her wings to beat.

Once.

Twice.

Blood spilled back into her limbs. She regained her sight.

100 meters.

Thrice.

She stopped counting and just pumped her wings. She tilted her tail and lanced her neck. The wind brought her back into the sky with a giant swoop.

Not chancing another fall by staying in the air, she inched closer to the ground. When she felt the canopy of the trees tickling her talons, she breathed a sigh of relief. The adrenaline was waning, and she was beginning to feel her pain in her left wing.

She touched down on the ground and stood there, shaking, for a few minutes. She felt Eragon suck in a breath and relief flooded her mind.

Not today.

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First chapter redone and posted, hope you like it!


	2. Cravings

Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.

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Angela was right, the potion took effect relatively soon; the next day Saphira woke up feeling better. Even her wing no longer hurt. Though she and Eragon had decided not to tell anyone about their mishap in the air, not even the Nasuada, they received a few days off anyways. They welcomed the precious break wholeheartedly. The spare time allowed them both to relax and regain their spirits. Unfortunately, that had nothing to do for those three days, and since they were both used to such a bustling lifestyle, the quiet was almost maddening.

Saphira kept loosing her mind in the clouds whenever she flew, only to come back to her senses with Eragon worried about her. She quieted his concerns with reasons, the most obvious being that she was just bored. After a few times, he learned to leave her alone to her musings.

Saphira found herself coming back to the same train of thought, _when will I find a mate? _She kept asking herself. In her free time, she began acting upon her instinct. She found herself flying to the edges of Surda and leaving large gouges on the tree trunks. She stretched up on her back legs and reached as high as she could on the bark.

Sometimes, she would fly north towards the Empire to spray the bases of trees and giant rocks with urine, not knowing exactly what pushed her to do so. She'd find herself circling in the sky for no reason, wasting what she considered valuable energy flaunting her form to no one in particular.

Though she appreciated the looked of awe she received from elves and Varden soldiers alike, she was striving towards something else. She yearned for something else, someone else, to recognize her, a lonely female dragon stuck in the world of her rider. With Glaedr dead, she found herself utterly lost and alone. Eragon could only help her so much, but in the end, he was only human.

She longed to be held by clawed hands and scaly arms, nothing the humans could offer compared. But, she could wait a bit longer. Her beacons would work, eventually, and when they did she would welcome their answer. Whether those scaly arms be green, red, or black. She needed someone, no matter what their color.

Saphira slowly opened her eyes, this time without the unpleasant throbbing in her head. _Such a beautiful dream, _she breathed_._ The picture of her future mate was fresh in her mind as she rose and sauntered out of her tree house. She received a series of chuckles form her rider and her eyes widened; her mind was completely open to his, and the scene of her mating with the green male along with it.

Saphira blushed slightly and her barriers shot up, sheepishly averting her eyes from his. She kept her eyes down and pretended to study their floor, mind chastening herself for letting something that private slip to a human. Even though it was her rider, a dragons dreams were secret. But Eragon merely smiled and pressed a hand to her foreleg.

_You secrets are safe with me Saphira, you should know that by now._

_I do little one, thank you. Eragon I wonder if you might- _A knock sounded at their door and Vanir's voice followed. It was training time, and the Queen wanted them to waste no time now that Saphira was back to her old self. The duo understood this, but it made them no less reluctant to join the spell-casters at the training grounds.

"Sometimes I really do hate how we have no control over what we do," Eragon grumbled. He latched Brisingr to his waist and pulled on his boots, hoping on one leg at a time. At a different time, Saphira would've found it highly amusing.

_It is required of us Eragon, we must be ready to Galbatorix and Shruikan should they choose to strike us head on._

"I know, but still, I still dream..."

_I know little one, I'm in your head remember?_

_As I to you, oh magnificent blue one, _he replied, his tone childish. Her sides rumbled with laughter as they joined Blodgharm outside. Saphira dove off the balcony and Eragon leapt after her. She swooped and caught him in the saddle, easing into a perfect glide over the surrounding their encampment.

_Eragon, about my dream this morning- _Eragon cut her off with a string of reassuring sentences, but Saphira shook her head. Eragon gave a slightly confused look; though she didn't actually look over her shoulder and see it, she read the emotions floating around in his mind. _That's not what I meant..._

_Well then why are you worried about so much. You are technically a girl Saphira, and that includes feminine feelings does it not?_

_I have never experienced anything like this before, _she breathed_. I'm worried... I'm worried that I'll do something I'll regret. Something drastic... _

_Saphira, you're the last female of your kind, of course it's going to be difficult to ignore your... feelings. But you've got me, and once we are able, we will ride to the farthest reaches of the unknown world if we must. _

Saphira hummed at him and Eragon rubbed her neck a bit as they came to a slant down towards the landing site that was meant especially for the two. Surda seemed lacking in dragon friendly places, but Saphira was pleased to see the soldiers were at least trying. The green fields surrounding the landing space was full of regular Varden soldiers and the occasional spell caster.

They all stopped their sparring and greeted the Shadeslayer and 'his dragon'. Though his dragon was far fetched, considering Saphira usually led in these types of situations, she allowed Eragon to have his glory.

After the incidents with Vanir about how weak he was, Eragon's new found elven strength from his transformation gave him the skill to at least tie with most of the soldiers and elves here, other than a selective few who were far more experienced and skilled for him to yet conquer.

Saphira dropped to her belly and laid down like a cat, leaving her rider to come and go from her back as he pleased. _Have fun little one, and try not to break any more limbs,_ Saphira rumbled. situating her bulk into a more comfortable position.

_Love you too, h_e leapt out of her saddle and bounded down her spine. She shivered but smiled, the lightly padded touches of feet on her back still made her tingle with happiness. What she would usually do while Eragon practiced was wait and watch, content with the interesting scenes around. On some days, she would be joined by either a child, their fear of her overcome by curiousity, or a battle scarred warrior, who's experience kept them stoic in the presence of a dragon. Today was no different, except the fact that her already filled stomach was surprisingly empty.

"Do you need time to hunt dragonness? I could inform Eragon for you..." Saphira shook her head, it was probably just a minor side effect of the potion Angela gave her. Odd, she had hunted down three does the day before. She paid it no mind, _Yes, just a side effect. You can take a little hunger. _

"Are you sure you are quite alright?" She smiled lightly, but it was not at all convincing. There was nothing the Varden could do to help her, their already low food supplies couldn't sustain a growing dragonness.

A sudden cramp hit her stomach and she cringed. Across the field, Eragon doubled over in pain, grasping his abdomen. Saphira was concerned for him, but a single thought had slithered into her mind.

_I need meat_.

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Second chapter finally redone, hope you like it!

Just so everyone knows, they are in Surda with the Varden, not in Ellesmera among the elves. I made this mistake in a lot of the chapters, hopefully I'll get to fixing them soon , too.


	3. Always Mine

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inheritance Cycle.**

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Saphira and Eragon left the training field immediately only to fly straight over the elven forest, deep enough for the dragonness to hunt. The towering trees provided no challenge for the two, her un-sated hunger growling and groaning against her stomach.

Saphira roared again and dived down, plucking two deer of the ground as they feebly tried to flee. The thick bones of the young bucks stood no match against her giant maw as she crunched down greedily, muffled growls tranforming into slight purrs as her stomach's complains ceased.

Saphira sighed and rolled onto her back, letting her now bulging tummy warm with the sun. Eragon walked over to her and rubbed her blue scales, creating circular patterns with the tips of his fingers. The she-dragon purred louder and wriggled at the feeling, showing her toothy grin. Her white teeth almost sparkled, or, they would at least, but they held a slight pinkish tinge from her meal. Eragon frowned but continued to rub her, mind working over their plans for the next few days.

Saphira opened her eyes and looked up when his hand left her side, craning her neck up into a C shape to see over her own bulk. She saw him walking away a bit and rolled onto her stomach, lifting herself up on her thick limbs. Her tail dragged behind her and she came to stand beside her rider, eyes questioning but looking out into the forest as he was.

_What is it little one? _Eragon shook his head and gripped his wrist behind his back, sighing because he knew she could figure out what he was thinking about without even trying. But she didn't. Saphira figured when Eragon was ready he would tell her willingly, seeking advice from her never ending dragon archives that inhabitated her brain. Of course, Eragon thought this was all her, when most of the credit went to her bloodline, and the dragons before her. They lent their knowledge to her most of the time, yet somewhat sparingly. Her rider shifted on his feet and this brought her thoughts back to him, along with her blue irises.

The sapphire orbs traced over his human body, noting the muscles that had formed on his arms and back since the start of their quest. She noticed the pointed ears resting on his head, and the false air of superiority hovering around. The shape was meant to announce he was of elven birth, but the transformation did not agree with his dragon rider blood, and slight curves still remained. If this had angered the elves, she did not know, nor did they show it, for their faces had been blank since they had arrived in the Elven capital. Saphira sighed in unison with her rider, the two thinking about something completely different yet the action was required to show the troubles warring in their minds.

"Ever wish you could get away Saphira?" He knew she was, but for some odd reason, he felt inclined to ask before striking this sort of conversation with her, as if to make sure she still dreamed of it. She did not lower her gaze from his back, instead bringing it up to the back side of his head, oddly fixated on the swirling patterns of his hair.

_You know I do. _He turned to her, eyeing her in an alien like way, as if he had never seen her before in his life, and he had no idea why she would be talking to him, but still the familiar love remained. Ever present in his deep brown eyes, he smiled slightly at her and reached a hand up from the small of his back to tickle her chin, recieving a slight wriggle from her as a result. Smiling wider, he drew his hand away and resting it on her muzzle.

"Do you...do you think we would ever try to? Just fly until we met the sun face to face, and stay there, at the edge of the earth." Sighing (she was beginning to become irritated with this new habit) she knew where he was going with this, he was going through another cycle of depression. This was her constant reminder that he was still so young, a boy thrust into a war he shouldn't be apart of. He was barely 18 as it is, and even her comfort could not save him from reality. The war was getting to him, she knew it was.

_Some day little one, some day we will. I promise you that, we'll get away from all this suffering and heartache, and we'll just fly as far as my wings will take us. _He offered her a small smile, albeit his eyes remained trained out towards the forest, imagining that day.

_I believe you Saphira, I do... But what of your responsibilities to you race? And mine to the races of Alagaesia. _She snorted, craning her neck up only to look down at him from the corner of her eye.

_What of them? You might be held here by your promises, but I will be restrained by nothing, and no one. _A look of horror swept across his face, and she realized her took her words the wrong way. _I'll scoop you up and fly off little one, and no one would dare stop me. _He grinned, wider than what she had seen in a long while, making his emotions rush at her through their link. She gave him a sly look, and before he could react, she launched away from the ground, taking him with her. He screamed, but laughed from his place in her closed paw, hanging onto her boney knuckles.

_See little one, nothing will keep us here! You're mine, and you always will be! _He continued to laugh, flinging he head back as she carried them both through the clouds. He fell limp, and for a moment, she panicked, thinking he had lost consciousness. But she looked down to find him with his arms dangling freely with the wind and a content smile on his face. Her mouth twitched, and a wicked looking toothy grin took it's place on her face.

_Always mine little one, always mine._

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This is going to be one of my favorite writes!

Tell me what you think!_  
_


	4. The Hunted

Aha!, forth chapter started already and I'm rearing to go! The fact that only one person review Black and Blue hurt, yes, but this story seems to be liked and I figured, ehh, why not? So here we are! I've always wanted to get reviews, especially good ones, but now I've realized writers will always get some bitchy people that complain about one thing or another. And do you know what, I'm okay with that! I don't care anymore! It's FANFICTION! If it was supposed to seem like the forth book I would have to be Christopher Paolini!

**Unneeded Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me, or anything for that matter. **(Until I finally figure out my OC I'm planning to put in this. Yes, I hate OC's in fanfics to but this one is desperately needed.)

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The fire flickered and rose to the sky, feeding off the dry wood and casting it's penetrating light towards the ones surrounding it. Its orange flames twisted and danced, pulsing with the air around it. It breathed like they did, and with every breath it took, it's luminous gaze brightening as the sun slowly fell from the sky, leaving the group surrounded by the summers warm breath. The dragon's lungs drank it in like cool mead, sighing as the haze of dew hung around them, just waiting for sleep to overtake them to drop down. The red scales on the dragons hide shone, capture the last remaining light of day as their host warmed his belly on the nearby flame

Another deep sigh escaped his rough lips and his eyelids drifted shut, the sleepiness drowning out any thoughts of resisting the night allure, the beautiful nothing seeping into his mind. This was bliss, or what he thought it felt like. Free from restrictions, from rules and regulations, the skies clear and uninhabited. This was his release. Tomorrow he would rest from the long journey here, but he couldn't complain.

The weather had been and still was, brilliant. The breeze carried the cool in from the North, along with it the sound of crickets that covered the landscape, their song ringing constant somewhat like a natural lullaby. With every light gush that flowed around his scales, he heard the rustle of leaves high above his head, just enough to set him into an air of calm. His thick hide shivered, not from the cold, his inner fire protected him form that, but the feeling of becoming alive that fluttered deep in his chest. He hummed, the vibration reaching his rider.

_Thorn will you cut that out, it's giving me the creeps. _Thorn's eyes shot open and he swerved his neck to hold his head above Murtagh, looking down as the young man frowned up. His lips pulled back into a toothy grin of some sorts, though to people it would look like a sadistic snarl was forming on his face. Murtagh didn't look impressed and instead he merely turned, but Thorn was satisfied to see a shiver run down his riders spine.

_You so nice. _Thorn curled back up at his place within the fires glow, tail wrapping around his back legs like a cat, the tip gone with a scarred stump in it's place. He snorted and shifted into position, the boney spikes along his spine contrasting with the nights shadows, and that, coupled with the fact that the fire cast an eerie red shine on them thanks to his scales, gave him the look of a demon.

_No one sad I had to be..._Murtagh rolled his eyes and kicked firewood out of his way, making room for himself on the ground, as close to the flame as he dared for fear that sparks would hit his clothing and sizzle into a fire. He plopped down heavily, reaching to pull off his boots with a content sigh when he could freely wriggle his toes in their socks. Thorn peeked at him under his first eyes, snorting louder this time with a slight smile on his features.

_Oh hush, at least I have all my limbs. _At this the red dragon scowled at him and a puff of smoke escaped from his nostrils, showing his annoyance. Murtagh chuckled and stretched out on his back, reaching his arms over his head and pulling them back as far as they could go and arching his stomach up towards the sky. He dropped down when he heard the cracks go off in his back, a small grin on his face at the release of pent up tension. So many hours of sitting in that stupid saddle, days of fighting, then that golden dragon nearly killed Thorn and since then they had been sitting in the forest. They could only travel when Thorn felt up to it, and even then his massive reptile like form was so maladroit on the ground that they barely got anywhere.

Not that he dared rub that fact against Thorn's patience, the dragon wouldn't hesitant to pluck him off the ground, fly as high into the clouds as he could, then drop him to prove how graceless humans were in the sky, where his race excelled. The young rider's eyes travelled to his dragons maimed tail, his mind weighing the possibility of whether or not he could heal it without killing himself. Not a chance, he sighed with the sound logic, and though he dearly wanted to help Thorn, he accepted he couldn't. Now, they would have to settle for just waiting for Shruikan to find them.

He wondered what could possibly be keeping the large black dragon, as he could fly far faster than Thorn, and the master was never one that took being late to kindly. Not that he ever cared to object, both her and Thorn hated waiting. Shruikan would always snort a laugh at their impatience, but give whoever kept them wasting time a firm talking to. Or just threw them out the window. Murtagh smirked.

As for Thorn, his mind raced in a completely different direction. He had smelt the breeze several times during the day, and what it held haunted him. The dragonness was near, and coming closer still, in his current state he wouldn't stand a chance in a fight. Nor would Murtagh be able to distract them long enough without getting himself injured also. Thorn shivered, the temperature of the air around him seeming to plummet suddenly. He wouldn't let that happen, he'd seen his rider endure enough, long before he hatched also, and refused to let them both be the victims again.

At this, the red dragon's neck arched up and craned to see the nights sky, bringing his riders attention to his scaly head. Thorn growled and unfurled his wings, scenting the female again, this time much to close for his comfort. She was tracking them, her and the blue rider, and she would find them before the nights end. He would be ready, and he would not fail Murtagh again.

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Sorry for such a long wait, I'll try to get the next chapter up before two weeks pass! Please review, virtual cookies to all my readers! :D

Oh, and one last thing. Err, two. First, my recent obsession is the movie _Legion!_ So I'll be starting a few stories about that, and if you've seen the movie please check them out when they're posted! Lastly, this story will have a few similarities with Black and Blue, but the plots will be revolving around very different things.

Thanks, love you all for understanding, and waiting patiently!


	5. Should Have Known

**Yes, yes, I know, the last chapter was a filler, but then ending did hint towards an important part I am about to put into play, give me a few chapters and it will all unfold! Now, this one will be about... I don't know yet... I'll just start writing now.**

**Oh, and I'm forcing myself to make this into a short story, I cannot let it get out of hand and distract me longer than necessary! So, with that said, this will be no longer than ten more chapters! So, about...14. Maybe 15 if I decide to milk out one last chapter, maybe a flash forward or something. I refuse to stress about updates on this one, so I'll get them up, when I get them up! DON'T PRESSURE ME! XD**

**Okay, now onward to the story!**

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Angela looked up towards the sky and watched the form of the blue dragonness and her rider float overhead, almost lazily drifting under the suns rays. She saw a glimpse of the scaled smile on her face before the reptile flipped and flew upside down, Eragon laughing merrily as the blood rushed to his face and his arms waving around wildly under him as they went.

A deep scowl crossed the witches face before she busied herself with her new supplies, stacking this and that on top of others and clearing a small circle around her as she organized, packing the smallest of objects into already overstuffed pockets. She hoisted a bag over her shoulder and carried it to a designated corner, placing it amongst her other belongings.

She looked down satisfied when her efforts produced a neat pile of saddle bags and travel gear, packed with her bare necessities and anything extra she needed and could fit into the compact bags. A scowl formed on her face as her mind wandered away, thinking about the weeks before, and her journey ahead. She had done a terrible thing, corrupted her use of the arcane art of Alchemy and combined it with her knowledge of foreign potions to produce a monster. A mutation.

A mistake.

Now her conscience fought against the magic which held her in place, and her urge to run up to the young man and his dragon was squeezed to death by the suffocating grip, the darker forces of the Ancient Language wrenching her stomach in uncontrollable way whenever the thought passed through her head. The side of the war in which she had placed her trust, and her service, had turned against her, and left the witch feeling sick and used. It made her feel more vulnerable then ever, and that, made her mad.

Initially, when the first wave of guilt hit her, Angela merely dismissed it with logic, attempting to brush off the emotion by telling herself 'it was for the sake of Alaegasia and others along the lines of 'the dragon race will thank us later.' Only the words grew thin and lifeless, and her eyes began to spill tears whenever her mind found itself back on the subject, so she had to hide her face from the world.

Then, then they dared expect her to make more of such potions, and when she showed resistance, they began to point fingers, plotting a way to blame it all on her, and she knew they were already planning an 'accident' to be rid of her before she could ruin everything they've worked for. If Solumbum had not pulled her out of her suffering silence, she would most likely be caught underneath a few tons of boulders by now, or impaled on spikes...

They may not dare enter her mind, but any number if times they could've taken her life in the past few weeks, and the paranoia was seeping into her brain. Like the truth had finally hit her, and now she had to share her dirty little secret with the very ones affected by it most.

Solumbum sat by her feet, shining cat eyes following her every move as she shuffled from on side of the tent to the other, entering on occasion to grab one last thing and shoving it roughly into her pockets. Now she was finally ready, the moment of truth, or the initiation if the moment of truth of some sort, and if she backed out now, she'd have to deal with it for rest of her immortal life.

The guilt.

The blame.

And worst of all, the wrath of a dragonness and her rider.

Angela's step flattered at the thought, and she tentatively turned her gaze to the side, casting a glance at her last way out. A narrow path that led away from her camp, and the prying eyes of the Varden camp, where her escape lay, just waiting. Calling out to her tense mind as the soft breeze brushed against the branches, ruffling the leaves and making several of the bright green elliptic shapes to drift to the forest floor. She almost took a step towards the dark path, grip on her bag strap tightening as her will suddenly forced her back.

No, something inside wouldn't allow her to back down from this, it wouldn't let her walk away, leaving it all behind to start over. Her heart, it could not take the fact that she had just ruined someones life, their very existence altered and manipulated like a pawn on a giant chess board. Her mind, it would not rest until she found a solutions, or at least a way out, and she knew it would keep grinding down on every angle, every possibility, until the day she died if she did somehow leave now.

So the witch shuffled her feet and forced herself forward, mind racing every which way, and her heart thumping far to fast, deceiving her calm demeanor. Her face was locked in a outward mask, while her in sides stormed and her eyes shifted warily from side to side, thoughts beginning to drift back to her hunters, a wary feeling creeping over her whenever her gaze caught a shadow that seemed to shift. She nearly jumped out of her leather boots when a soldier nearby dropped his sword, the hard metal clanging against a rock and ringing in her ears as she tried to calm her pulse, her hand flying to her chest in an attempt to slow the thundering she felt.

"You should have ran while you had the chance." Angela froze, not daring to look up though she knew who stood behind her. Her dark brown locks hid her face and she looked through the small peak holes, any she could see through, and found the surrounding area deserted, the previously crowded row of tents deathly still, and eerily silent. A shudder nearly racked her body, but she steel her back and straightened her stance.

When she finally did regain control of her voice, she willed herself to meet him head on, vowing to at least make her name and spirit branded into his mind before she died, maybe even come back to haunt him after death. After he murdered her.

"Blödhgarm... I should've known."

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So, there you have it! The enemy is finally revealed, and I am so happy it is. I hate the elves Arya annoys me, and all the others are so... Ugh. Never mind. Tell me what you think, from all previous reviews, and therefor lack of, I truly am beginning to think it sucks to be you guys... Still reading this that is...

Well, I just started high school, which all the older students are ticking me off. The guys are assholes( I'm mad, deal with it) and the girls are all sluts, I swear. Ugh again. They probably think I'm quiet, for now, give it a a few months and I'll be known as the sarcastic bitch of the school! Yay!

So yeah, life sucks for me, love you all, and hopefully I can get this finished before getting caught for the murder of one of the idiot sophomores for making fun of me, and then going to juvy! *insert cheerful laugh*


	6. Tired and Hungry

Ugh, I went into my document manager, saw this had 1,000+ words, and flipped. I thought the next chapter was finished and I just hadn't posted it. Again, ugh. It wasn't, and I didn't. So, here we are...

Okay, it's almost 10:00 P.M here, and I finally got my laptop yesterday! My school administrators decided to be douches and put blocks INTO the laptops instead of through the school airport, so I've been fighting blocks all day, trying to find a way around them. Basically I can get to 1/6 of the usual sites I go on, so imagine how psyched I was when fanfiction was unblocked.

So, in honor of my new good mood, here is the next chapter, I'm hoping to get the next one up within the week if time allows it!

* * *

Life should be simple, yet it couldn't really, once you stop to think about it.

Perhaps people over examine life, and other under, and maybe the key to a happy existence is finding the smudged, grey line in between and planting yourself down on it. Then again, sometimes it can be good to look at life in a straightforward sort of way, when trying to get to a point. Other days, people should think of life as some convoluted plan of sorts, with intricate twists and turns, and someone had it all mapped out so in the end, things would be okay.

With a sigh, Eragon flicked his eyes away from the sky, to which he had been staring, leaning back on his hands and crossing his long legs loosely as they sprawled out in front of him. He puffed a heavy breath towards his forehead, blowing the dark bangs from over his eyes. He had no energy to raise his hand and move them away at the moment, it seemed like all reserves had been drained from his body.

Life had become far to complicated, it seemed, far beyond what his body could handle. Barely turning towards his twentieth year, his body had only begun to mature into what he would like as an adult, thanks to the immortality granted to him by his soul sister. That brought a glimpse of a smile to his lips, she always did, but the joy faded fast. He was to tired to be happy.

Another sigh, and he lifted his hands to stare at them, eyes trailing down the to the straining muscle. They always seemed to hurt lately, he got no rest form the rigorous training. Elves, they did not seem to understand though he may look slightly like them, he would never be able to keep up with sword swings that took at milisecond to reach his chest, all the way from the ground. Unable to hold himself up any longer, his let his back fall and hit the grass hard. With a soft groan, he just laid there, staring up at the drifting clouds.

His arms felt like wet noodles, and his eyelids began, a wonderfully blissful haze beginning to spread throughout his mind. _Maybe a nap will help a little. _He thought, knowing no matter how long he slept he'd never be free from the worn-out feeling. Shifting with all his muscle, he struggled to get comfortable, before figuring out it was not the ground that caused the tenderness, but the state of his soma.

Settling for just laying there, he heaved his arms and finally laced his fingers under his neck. His closed his eyes, hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep at least, letting his guard down almost completely, but not quite...

A mind surrounded his, and he nearly shot up, but the muscles in his stomach groaned and he flopped back heavily. His head banged on the ground and he groaned, settling for slowly leaning forward and deducing who it was, and what they needed so urgently to try and force down his mental walls. A hesitant poke and he found the magic mind to be a dark forest green, and Arya's voice rang in his head.

_The Red Rider has been sighted to the north, he's been on the ground all day, and we sense something has hurt Thorn to the point of disability. Head back to us and we'll fill you in properly. _

_Arya, I-_

_Yes Argetlam? _Eragon drew back sharply, so they were back to that were they. She gave him a curt goodbye, extremely careful with her words, but the meaning was there. He may have smoothed over the rough edges of their friendship, but she refused to let him think there was anything more. No matter how much it seemed she had warmed up to him for a while, she had began to avoid him once again, and his attempts to talk to her were dying. His heart no longer pumped like crazy when she caught his stare, not did his stares linger, instead they remained trained onto whom ever he had been talking to instead.

What had started out in a desperate attempt to make her jealous had transformed, blossomed into something much realer, and his no longer seemed to feel anything in his chest at the sound of his name. As sad as he was at the thought, it was not to the point of lovesick, and maybe that was another sign, that that's all it was.

Shaking himself out of it, he lurched his body forward, rolling into a standing position, and his knees buckled slightly. He had been laying there longer than he had thought apparently. Judging by his shadow, the the increasingly cool air, it was nearly supper, and his stomach growled slightly at the thought. "Perfect," he muttered, he got to miss out again, and he was tired as hell.

How they thought he could take Murtagh on like this he never knew, and he' be damned if another elf nearly openly scoffed at him because he shuffled everywhere, hunching his body over to minimize the energy lost in movement. He was tired dammit! And if he went another day with only one meal he'll started scarfing down raw meat whenever Saphira hunted.

Speaking of his dragon, he realized he had walked all the way to this place, and she had flown off in the opposite direction to hunt. He nearly flopped himself back to the ground at the thought, and began his long trek home, scuffing his worn leather shoes along the ground, hoping he'd come up with a believable excuse as to why he was so late.

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So, yeah, I don't know what this really is either. I'm hoping someone find the hidden clues into what will happen next, review with your guesses! Oh, and I wrote this all in an hour and a half. Cool huh? If I write like this each night (not the hour and a half thing on school night though, just part of that time =D) I'll be getting the chapter up in no time!

I'll start writing the next chapter tomorrow night, after mah homework! Thanks for the reviews everyone, and keep doing so! I love 'em!


	7. Dream of Mushrooms

Saphira watched as her rider came trudging back from yet another sparring session, hunched over and arms swinging slightly with his lack of energy, his eyes locked to the ground. She could feel the indifference and exhaustion radiating through their link. She crooned to him and laid her head back down on the ground, to which he plopped on the grass with her and leaned back on her neck, sighing deeply. _I'm sorry little one._

Eragon reached up with a sore arm to rub his face, the effort needed tiring him out nearly completely, and he knew he wasn't about to be moving from this spot anytime soon. He hoped Saphira would just stay with him and rest as he did; he knew they both needed the day off. They wouldn't get it though, the Elves already had another training session for him, the last before he left the next morning after Murtagh. He wasn't looking forward to confronting his half brother, and the idea raised conflicting emotions and thought trains in his head.

The least brutal, was his subconscious wishing that the didn't even catch the Red Rider, not confrontation with him and that the assumption that Glaedr had injured Thorn to the point of disability was just that, an assumption. Eragon frowned at the fact that even his mind was turning against him, fueling the hope that the red dragon wasn't in fact maimed.  
It threw him off how strong he was against the idea of finally killing his only living family member, and the idea leaked over to Saphira, but he gave her no time to react to it. _You have no reason to be sorry, we're in this together Saphira._

_Nor is there reason behind drilling you to death either, not one good enough to put your health and state of being under such stress._ He shrugged and although she couldn't see him, he knew she felt the movement on her scaly hide.

_I'm beginning to wonder their plans... But it is not our place to ponder such things, we are here to eradicate the Red Rider and after him, Galbatorix._

_I know darling, but I cannot help it, your weariness is carrying over through our link and it makes me worry._

_This is a time of war Saphira, you'll always find something to worry about._

_You grow wiser by the day little one._ She craned her head around to rub her cheek to his lightly before laying it down next to him, her scaly hide circling his body. She sighed a heavy breath and they both watched the grass in front of her nose sway lightly, raising a rustling sound in the air. _But still, my patience with their indifference to your health grows thin._

He grinned a bit at her and laid back all the way, stretching out on the ticklish grass with a content sigh. Saphira followed suit, her length doubling as she flattened herself out on the ground. She hummed and laid next to him in silence for a while.

It was these moment that they loved, what held them together in a tight bond of friendship. The clouds floated across the sky above them and the birds sang, the clank of swords in the distance the only reminder of the war going on. In these moments, Saphira joined Eragon in not caring about anything but themselves and each other. The worries of war fell away and responsibilities to their alliances were carried away on the breeze. They seized the moment and slept, peacefully and deeply, along side each other.

When the awoke again, it was early evening and the camp was settling down for a meal of the masses. It consisted of small amounts of meat and vegetables with large bits of bread. There was plenty to go around, but Eragon desired a bit of variety once in a while.

Sparing Saphira a side glance to confirm she agreed, he swung himself up on her back and suddenly they were flying with only a burst of wind behind them. He couldn't help himself, he was smiling. As exhausted as he was the feeling of swimming through the sky made him joyous and bubbly, laughter rising out of his mouth.

The cold air woke him up fully and for a moment the weariness of his muscles was forgotten. Raising his arms above his head he cheered as Saphira swooped and blew a bit of flame out of her mouth. They could hear each other laughing as they made their way deeper into the forest in search for fresh game, and if they were lucky, some wild mushrooms.

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Pointing out the obvious: Shorter than usual but it's been a long time, and I'm hoping to continue this over the summer and get it over with! xD Next chapter already started.


	8. Nausea

Staring up at the stars, Saphira fought her bodies urge to throw up, her stomach contents not sitting right and her abdomen churning. She groaned and rolled onto her side, careful not to put pressure on her ribs to make it hurt even more. This was a horrible way to spend her night, she had no way of curing her uneasiness towards the next day (what she thought it was) and didn't want to disturb Eragon's sleep even more.

What she didn't realize is how loud her pain really was, especially through their link. Eragon had been drifting in and out of sleep since her upset stomach started, and with her most recent cries his eyes slowly opened. He was exhausted and bleary eyed, but the lurch of pain they shared left him gasping for breath on the cot inside his tent.

The spell only lasted a few moments and he rose to his feet, the grass tickling him as he made his way to her, exiting his tent and dismissing the guards that watched his dragon with concern but not daring to try and help. They nodded at him and he stood by her head.

_Saphira, what is it?_ He ran his hand on the side of her cheek slowly and his thoughts were soft and slow. He stiffened a bit when she curled herself up in agony and whined some more, trying not to share through their link. Fortunately, Eragon only felt bits and pieces of her problem, although he couldn't get into her mind to see what was wrong either. So he had to ask, an odd realization coming to the rider, _We never ask, we just... know. _

It took a powerful bond to _feel _some one else with your heart and soul, knowing what they were really thinking and meant to say. It was a useful tool in their relationship, but one downfall is they couldn't really ever keep their secrets. Of course Saphira had her Dragon History that she didn't plan on sharing with anyone, no matter who they were, and Eragon kept some precious moments with Uncle Garrow and Roran from his past but that was it. Anything in the present that happened in their minds and bodies, was broadcasted to the other.

A bond like theirs could be wondrous at times, but right now Eragon almost wished he could cut off their connection. He couldn't of course, and he chided himself for thinking it, but he hated the gut wrenching feeling he got from Saphira's body. He hugged her snout and tried to console her, but there was little he could do.

_A healing spell! I'll find Arya and have her help me! _Saphira whined as he ran off, not wanting to be left alone, but she didn't have the energy to call out after him either way. She was drained, tongue rolling out of mouth and onto the ground as she panted, over heating as her hormones went wild and turned her fire against her, burning off a fever that wasn't there.

Eragon sprinted his way through the camp, ignoring the various "Dragon Rider!" and "Shurtugal!" calls he got as he weaved around soldiers and dodged elves, earning looks of concern and amuse, and sometimes even scolding ones. He ignored them all, calling out Arya's name but not hearing an answer. He slammed to a stop and rolled to his right to avoid someone, gasping for air and looking up to see who hadn't moved out of his way.

His first reaction was anger, knowing Saphira was still suffering on the other side of camp, but his emotions shifted to surprise and curiousity. It was Blödhgarm! _What is he doing here_, Eragon thought, _he's supposed to be in Ellesmera!_ Saving the questions for later, Eragon jumped up and with adrenaline rushing through his body, tried not to be so loud as to alert the whole camp population.

"Blödhgarm," he hissed with a strained voice, "It's Saphira, she's in pain and I don't know what's wrong!" The elf looked unfazed but Eragon's rushed greeting and his non existent manners, brushing aside the potential insults and grabbing the Rider by the arm.

"Then we shall go to her at once and see what's the matter with her," he said in a hush, firm tone, rushing them both back to the young rider's tent and to where Saphira lay some ten feet away.


	9. What the Silence Screams

He kneeled by her side and searched with his mind through her muscles and organs for anything that might be bothering her system so. He knew what ailed her, of course, but he dared not reveal anything for the sake of his life.

"I'm sorry Eragon, but as far as I can tell, there's nothing that could cause these symptoms," Blödhgarm lied softly, taking one last look into Saphira's eyes as if the answer might lay there. The elf had managed to dull her pain to a faint cramp and although the spell was quite strong, it would wear off eventually. They were all hoping it would last until her sickness was over.

"I suppose dragons don't get stomach flu do they, so it couldn't be that," Eragon muttered, thinking and rubbing his jaw as he sat nearby on the ground. He made sure to stay close to her but he had to keep out of Blödhgarm's way when he had been inspecting every inch of her. Though he knew the older man had been very thorough, Eragon had a feeling what ever was wrong with Saphira wasn't fully physical.

_Saphira, you've got to calm down, the anxiety is getting to your body. _The dragons eyes swept over to him, sadness in her eyes as she stared noiselessly, not responding. Her body fell with a heavy sigh and she looked away, their link deadly quiet. As always, they shared thoughts, not speaking to each other, but using pictures and floating images of words, feelings and sounds, colors even, to express to one another.

It took some time for Eragon to decipher her meaning, wondering what all the colors meant before it occurred to him. She was scared, so scared she felt like puking. She didn't want to fight Thorn again, injured or not. He was not the enemy, Saphira knew this now, and she hated being forced to hunt him down for capture. What if she lost? What if she got hurt? Or worse, what if she got him killed?

Now, not only were her nerves making it hard for her to relax, but the fear of not knowing what was happening with her own body. In the time span of an hour she had shrunk down from one of the most powerful and confident creatures in the known world to a timid little hatchling, unsure and without the guidance of one of her own.

He could do nothing but console her, stroking the velvety skin behind her ears and down her cheek bone as she cried out in their heads, wishing to be surrounded by her long lost family and the friends she would've had before they all died. Eragon didn't know what else to do but keep hugging her, and was surprised to find Blödhgarm with a hand placed one of the her horns as well.

Standing completely silent, they stared at each other. In the mix of Saphira's crying, they took turns petting, holding and murmering words of love to her. In Eragon's heart, Blödhgarm earned more respect than any before him. While many would have kept their distance or stand there awkwardly, or even run off to spread the gossip, the elf seemed to know just what to do.

When Saphira started to quiet down and they were left crooning to her as the night hour waned into morning, sounds of the guard shift switching carried to them and crickets quieted. Birds awakened and begin swooping from tree to tree. The peaceful,quiet scene of morning was enough to calm the dragon, and accompanied by the soft hold of her rider on her cheek, Saphira fell asleep.

Eragon continued to pet her face gently, looking up to Blödhgarm with a sense of accomplishment in both their eyes. They helped her ease down and with her finally resting, Eragon could too. But he remained standing by her, looking at the elf across from him. Something went unsaid, yet fully understood in the silence.

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I plan on updating everyone Monday and Thursday, but you're getting this one early so I can start the next chapter with the idea I have. Lucky you guys!

Review please! Just a word, anything! :D


	10. Friends

Saphira had been feeling better the days following, but the mission to track down Thorn and Murtagh had been postponed. It had been a fight with the queen though, and Eragon was forced to compromise by vowing to keep sparring and practicing. He was pushing his limits even more lately, and he felt the strain on his muscles slowly beginning to ebb into a peaceful numb. After hours of swinging his sword back and forth for hours, memorizing the movements and repeating them until they were burned into his mind, his arms stopped aching and merely lost feeling. Saphira said it wasn't healthy, but Eragon liked to think the Elves would know when his body reached it's limit. He had vowed to puch himself, and he would until they found his skills satisfactory.

Feeling the sensation return to his arms, Eragon knew he wouldn't last any longer as the ache rolled over him in waves and he struggled to even raise an arm to wipe his brow. Bowing respectfully to his sparring partner, whose name he had forgotten for the moment, he trailed off. Through the camp and towards where he thought Saphira might be on such a hot day like this one. The nearby lake was one of her favorite places to relax in the heat of the day when the sun was highest and she could sun herself on the beach and dry off after her swim.

Not finding her at the waters edge, he decided to take a cool down of his own and set his sword on a rock to his right, slowly pulling his tunic over his head. With aching arms he flung it near his sword and waded in, not caring about his pants getting soaked through. It felt nice after hours of training, and the rider soon found himself floating with the lakes gentle current. He ducked underneath a few times to cool his face and wash his hair a bit, but he had no energy for any rigorous swimming. He was surprised no one else was taking advantage of the lake on a day like this, it was far to good to pass up.

"You shouldn't be out here alone, Eragon," Blodhgarm said from the waters edge, sitting in the grass. Eragon turned, surprised before he recognized who it was and his heart calmed. The rider began slowly wading back to shore, smiling at the elf.

"I know, but who can resist a swim on a day like today?" Eragon shook his head to free his short air of water and slipped his tunic back on, buttoning it up as he squinted to see the elf, the sun in his eyes. "What brings you here?"

The elf looked across the lake blankly, as if in deep thought. "I was sent to watch over you, as Saphira is out hunting again," the elf replied curtly as Eragon sat down beside him, a glance shared between them both.

"I forgot to apologize the other day when I asked for your help. I was to worried about Saphira to greet you properly and I hope I didn't offend you," Eragon explained. He really hoped he hadn't angered the elf, as he was growing the like the blue fur man, but he understood elves could be very sensitive towards disrespect. Blodhgarm didn't look insulted, but elves had always been good at hiding their feelings.

"Oh it's quite alright Shadeslayer... Between you and I , I've never really cared for my peoples formalities anyways." They both kept looking across the water, watching it ripple and pulse as bugs landed lazily in look food. Eragon felt a tingle of happiness as water trickled down his neck and his shoes squished with every movement. He felt as if he had found a friend.

"Were you planning on staying much longer? The Queen will grow worried," Eragon looked to his side and watched Boldhgarms stone face, wondering why he worded it so strange. Was he not permitted to call his queen her full name, and why didn't her just "my queen?" Shrugging off the idea that made its way into his mind, he stood.

"No actually, I was planning on snagging something to eat from my tent and finding Saphira... Care to join me?" He strapped his sword back to his waist and looked to the elf, hopeful. To his pleasant surprise, he found a smile on Blodhgarm's face.

"Quite, that sounds... Delightful," Eragon smiled back, ignoring how the last word sounded strained. He held a hand to help the elf up and happily found it was accepted.

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Yet another early update because I want to start writing the next chapter while I have an idea for it in my head.

Sorry for any spelling and grammar errors, I don't have a Beta Reader for this thing and I don't really take the time to read through it at the end...

Please read and review! :D


	11. Apprehension

There were cramps in her stomach yet again, and Saphira lay on the ground, panting. She was overheating and hungry, tired and sick to her stomach. She groaned and tried again to rise, the agony in her legs and shoulders building.

The pain had hit her in flight and forced her to land in a hurry. Her paws hit the ground gracelessly, her limbs shaking and her frame rocked with nerves. She collapsed to her side before she had even stopped moving, her shoulder taking the brunt of her momentum. She groaned but knew no one could hear her in the middle of the woods. Saphira's mind was too muddled to call out to Eragon, her body curling into a ball instinctively and she found herself staring at her abdomen through squinting eyes. Her face scrunched until indistinguishable, her paws opening and closing. Her claws dug into the ground, it was excruciating.

Amidst her groans and frenzied thoughts, her mind was searching for the answer; what was happening to her? When the pain began to subside, her face remained distorted but she felt a stirring in her gut. At first she thought she was about to throw up whatever had upset her system, then, she felt it. Something moved. Something was moving inside her. Shifting, trading places with whatever else lay beside it. The idea itself made her loose her stomach.

She lay in a puddle of her own vomit and blood for what felt like ages, head spinning with all the possibilities as her limbs fell limp and her heart steadied itself. She still felt terrible, disgusted with what she knew to be true after hours of intense thinking, just lying there on the forest floor.  
There was something inside her, living, feeding off her. It was an egg, two of them. She didn't want to face it but she knew her assumption was correct when they shifted again.

"This isn't right", she thought, head reeling and shaking legs lifting her heavy body off the ground. She hadn't mated in her whole life, why would she be pregnant? How could she be pregnant? Nothing made sense to the poor dragonness now.

She was crying, salty tears escaping her eyes as she ran awkwardly away from her crash site. She had to clean off, she had to find her rider, she had to figure this whole mess out! No one could find out, no one but Eragon, she had to keep it a secret, she had to!

Imagine the shame, humiliation, standing in front of Nasuada and Izlandzia, trying to explain what had happened when she didn't know herself. She couldn't remember anything, but she guessed it happened the night she let loose and didn't watch herself. She had drank with the dwarfs till night, that she could remember, but after they bid her goodnight and left her alone her mind drew a blank. She just couldn't remember.

Taking flight, she veered recklessly and shot towards the lake, hoping no one was nearby to see her in such a poor state of being. Her pride wouldn't be able to take it. Struggling to see clearly, she blinked away the remaining tears in her eyes, gasping desperately to gain the air she needed. Her lung were burning and it took all her will power to flap her wings. She wavered in the air and fear caught in her throat, she didn't want to land abruptly like before.

Her vigor increased in strength when she felt her link with Eragon hum loudly, signally that he was near, and he was happy. His calm washed over her like cool rain, spreading through her mind and the familiar feeling helped her nerves. She needed him, his hand on her scales and his voice surrounding her mind, but she didn't dare ask him to meet her anywhere.

She did leave their connection open, but didn't respond to his urgent question. She crashed into the lake and felt the water surround her, clean the filth off her hide and cool her skin. She managed a feeble hum at the feeling and noticed with refreshed alertness where she was. She became aware of the watching elves, all waiting for her to breach the waters surface with concern. Ignoring them, she shot herself back into the air, acting calm and confident for show while her insides still churned. It was then she tore down the blocks between her mind and Eragon's, opening herself to the flood of his questions. Immediately he was in her head and she was in his, silently seeking the comfort he always willingly provided her with.  
_Saphira..._  
_Eragon._  
_What are we going to do?_ His voice ran in her mind, questioning and apprehensive. He was concerned, for her well being and for what she wanted to do.

Her resolve hardened, her mind focusing with his help, and she instantly made the connection. Returning to the skies above the clouds, she glared at the taunting blue, finding no comfort in the sunny hue. She was determined, still scared of course, but even more so ready to find who did this to her and take her revenge. _Hunt down the bastard._

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I'm liking where this story is going, and yes, this will be finished by the end of summer (unless all three of my computers suffer a terrible fate and just up and die on me -.- but that's extremely unlikely!)

The next chapter is already written and I'm working on the one due for a week from now (next Monday.) As always, I am looking for a Beta Reader who will help me making this better (mostly with grammatical errors and plot holes, and looking at the chapters from a readers P.O.V to see what's lacking) Please PM me! You'll be able to read each chapter early ;)


	12. A Chance

I love the reviews I'm getting from some of you, all asking questions and wondering what's really going on (not to the point of utter confusion I hope) but I hope all is clear by the time the story ends. The most recent review I got pointed out several things I had forgotten, for which I am thankful. To bad the user turned off their PM :(

Oh well, onward!

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Though she was determined, and Eragon promised to help her in anyway he could, they both knew endlessly searching for the male that had taken advantage of her was impossible. The Varden and the Elves would never let them leave without good reason and a heavy guard. Saphira was no where near ready to tell anyone else about her problem, but she was itching to hunt whoever it was down and get some answers. Her opportunity came when Blödhgarm raced into Eragon's tent a few days later, breath even and face composed even though his eyes shown otherwise.

"Eragon, the red dragon has been spotted and we have been ordered to confront him," his sentence was rushed but Eragon was on his feet and buckling on his sword either way. Saphira rose to her feet outside the tent and shook herself, a loud bugle rising from her throat, challenging. Hearing her, the camp grew restless and looked for the signs of battle, confused and wondering what had gotten the dragon so hyped up. She was dancing on her feet, ready and eager to go as Eragon strapped on her saddle. Blödhgarm left to find the other spell casters that would be accompanying them.

Glad for the help, Eragon smiled sadly at Saphira's enthusiasm, knowing her real reason. She could care less what the Varden wanted her to do, and would ditch the elves should they get in her way. She had stated long ago that should she ever see reason to pick Eragon up and leave with him, regardless of his wishes. She planned on holding herself to that promise.

"Shadeslayer, ready and at your service," a chorus of silky voices rose up to their eyes and looking down they saw a dozen elves bowing their heads respectfully. At the head of them stood Blödhgarm, looking up after a moment, his face calm and collected as usual. "Our allegiance to the Queen extends to you, do not hesitate to call on any one of us for aide."

The two were touched, and Eragon smiled down to the all. Saphira trumpeted to the sky again impatiently but Eragon knew she had heard them and she was grateful. It was good to have allies, friends, in a time like this. "Thank you Blodhgarm, thank you all." He looked each and every one of them in the eyes before swinging into the saddle and strapping his legs in. "How will you be keeping up..?" Eragon didn't know if they intended to ride on Saphira's back also or to run below them.

"We have our ways Rider, just lead and we'll get there," a young looking elf stepped forward and spoke with a confident tone, his eyes a deep gray. Eragon vowed to learn his name, along with all the others.

_Come on, let's get on with this! _Saphira announced in their heads, jumping them all into action and starting to beat her wings, lifting herself into the air. It was a four days journey as a crow flies and though Saphira could complete it in two, she would be exhausted when she arrived. Eragon made her promise to pace herself, and she did, grudgingly.

They were headed East, to the border of Surda. It was a long way and although prepared with all the food, navigational tools and weaponry they would need for the journey, Eragon found himself doubting the assumed odds of their confrontation with his half brother. He couldn't help himself, he could not busy his mind with silly riddles this time. Saphira was set on flying the whole time, nothing more. Her mind was a rushing pool of emotions and thoughts, all centered on her problem.

Trying to reassure himself they would succeed in what they had really set out to do, whatever that may be, the young rider settled for watching the clouds. He had made the mistake of entering Saphira's mind, if only for a moment. He was drowned in rage and determination and nearly didn't get out before his world went black. Sometimes it was safer not fusing his thoughts with hers, a dragons mind was no place for a human.

* * *

The last part is choppy I know, but hopefully you understand what I mean; sometimes a dragon's mind is too vast and complex for a human (or elf) to try and enter without their own being engulfed.


	13. Colorful Stones

I apologize in advance for any weird things with this one, it was written on a computer who really doesn't like fanfiction or it's formats Dx

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When they landed on the first night, Saphira's legs wobbled. Her body was exhausted, not from the flight but the lack of sleep she had been getting. Stress was running rampant on her mind and body and it was wearing her down. She needed some closure, some reassurance. She needed everything to be back to normal. Even before this, stress was part of her day. Working in a world of war did that to everyone, but now it was tenfold. She laid her body down with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, feeling her rider untie his legs from the saddle and unbuckle himself. She heard him land on the ground lightly, but awkwardly. His legs were asleep from sitting in the same position for hours on end.

He stumbled but caught himself, leaning back to stretch with a yawn. His eyes were crusty from the wind constantly drying them, and he rubbed his face as he yawned again, ready for a nap though he did none of the work. It made him feel lazy, yet quite pleasant. With a smile he set to work removing Saphira's saddle, slowly undoing the complex knots and difficult buckles. He heard the group of elves walk up to them, for once their breathing was strained. He was relieved to know even Elves had their limits.

"How was your ride ShadeSlayer?" Eragon turned to the unknown elf who had asked, the same young man from that morning.

He allowed himself a smile, hoping they would all be as friendly. "As much as I like them, they can be a bit too... aloof, for my comfort," he thought, unstrapping the last parts Saphira's and hauling it off her back. "Terribly uneventful," on an upside, it seemed his training with the elves was starting to pay off, he could now hoist the saddle with ease. "Funny, it used to throw me to the ground with it," he mused in his head. "And your run?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to the elf. Name unknown to the rider, he was searching through his small pack for something.

"Surprisingly tiresome Shadeslayer," he pulled a small wrap out of his pack and, with a grin, laid it on the ground nearby.

"Please, Eragon," He hated being called Shadeslayer all the time. A title that he once claimed with pride felt stale on his tongue, overused with the life wrung out of it. Glancing at the small package, Eragon's curiosity got the best of him. "What's in that?"

The elf seemed thrilled he asked, scooting over to the wrap and unfolding it for the young rider to see, a dagger neatly protected in the fabric. He held it up to the sunlight and it shone, intricate patterns carved delicately into the sides and twisting up the pommel. He handed it to Eragon with pride, face beaming at the opportunity to share his treasure. "It took me years to finish."

Eragon's eyes widened, "It's so light!" He thought, tracing a finger along it's designs. He noted how carefully crafted they looked. "A blade like this _would_ take years to finish," he thought. "You made this?" His voice rang with disbelief, the young rider in awe and doubt.

"Indeed, out of dragon scales I found throughout my life. As soon as I collected some I realized regular metals would never compare and I need more for my blade." Eragon was once again astonished, wondering how such a feat possible. _Saphira, are you listening? _

_Yes, I also want to know how he accomplished it. _Saphira craned her head around and watched them both, her eyes showing her inner interest. She surrounded their minds with her voice, _Elaborate elf. _

The elf looked even more excited about telling his story to a dragon, eager to explain as Eragon stared at the blade in his hands. The young elf began grinning uncontrollably.

"See, the first time I encountered the remains of a dragon, it was nearly a hundred years ago, when the use of dragon parts was on the rise and anything from their bodies could be made into something valuable. Turns out, when a dragon dies and it's body is left for nature to reuse, it's scales do not compose, instead falling off the flesh and transforming into vibrant, colorful stones."

_Well that explains the color, _Eragon said to Saphira, holding it up for her to see. The blade shone a bright orange, the color of a sunset. She sniffed the knife with curiosity, secretly wondering if her scales could really be made into something so beautiful, so delightfully frightening. _Saphira, you already are those things! Except I think your teeth are a bit sharper than this. _He pricked his finger on the tip of the blade and smiled, glad to know it could in fact be used as a real knife. He became aware he wasn't allowing the elf to finish his story, "I'm sorry, please continue."

The elf looked anything but angry, instead brimming with happiness. "Oh no please, I'm glad someone else can finally admire it as I do." Eragon looked down at it again, noting how his drop of blood rolled down the side and followed the patterns. He wondered if the design was to make that happen on purpose. "I plucked a few of the stones off the ground and carried them home in my trousers. For the next few moons I studied them, trying to figure out how it was possible. No answer became apparently after various tests, but I did notice one particularly useful property. The stones melted, at extremely high temperatures yes, but who would expect anything less of something that used to protect a dragon?" They all shared a grin, Saphira pulling her scaly lips back and putting her large fangs on display. Though this distracted the elf for a moment, captured by the sight, it only took a moment for him to continue his tale.

"It was then a plan began forming in my head and I went back for more and more stones, crafting my creation in a book that I still carry with me at this moment. Unfortunately, I under estimated the amount of stones I would need, and when the melting process came around I realized I only had enough for a dagger, an exceptionally large dagger of course." He paused and Eragon handed the blade back. The rider watched as he began meticulously cleaning off any grime that might have landed on the blade.

"After that, it was only a matter of keeping one side of the blade hot liquid with magic as I carved out the other. Then I merely had to flip it. The cooling stage didn't complete itself for some six weeks, as I felt it proper to let that happen naturally." Eragon was smiling by the time he finished, mind filled with floating ideas and words, pondering all the possibilities. "I want to make a blade like that. Just the way he did," Eragon thought, deciding right then and there to do so before he died. If he had the chance.

"Wait, I never got your name," Eragon said as the elf stood up.

"You may call me Slenvi," he said with a smile.

_That was a wonderful story Slenvi, _Saphira crooned, happy to hear a bit of something about her kind once in a while. Eragon smiled and agreed, suddenly noticing the sun had set and a fire had been made some feet away.

"You're a great story teller, I know people who would pay to hear that one." Eragon was surprised to see Slenvi blush slightly.

"Thank you, Sh- Eragon," they shared a moment of silence, all but the crackling of the fire. Positioning himself to lean against Saphira's paw and feel the fire's warmth on his face, he closed his eyes.

_Do you have any other tales of dragons Slenvi? _Saphira inquired, hoping to hear some more before they all fell asleep. She was liking their company so far, and she was entirely relaxed thanks to the young elf.

Slenvi's face split with a grin. "But of course! Here, let me tell you about Resci the Wise..."

* * *

Please tell me if this chapter is understandable c: I'm happy about how this chapter came out, it practically wrote itself! And it's longer than usual, which I think is good...

I like my new writing, I think my style has changed since the beginning of this (:


	14. Interesting

I was focusing on research for my original story this weekend, so I'm a little behind on the chapters. Ha whoops xD

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When Eragon awoke the next morning, he found his body well rested. His muscles no longer groaned from the slightest strain and most of his energy seemed to have returned. He was not fully healed, but he liked to think a bit of extra sleep was just what he needed. "I haven't felt this good in... ages," he thought, stretching as he lay there in the grass. Saphira's wing was draped protectively over him, and his world was one of blue. Her gargantuan form rose and fell with steady, deep breaths. Eragon smiled and lay there happily, eyes closing slowly and his mind threatening to sink back into sleep.

"Sha-Eragon," Slenvi had developed the habit of combining "Shadeslayer" with "Eragon" the night before, in such a way that made Eragon laugh. With a chuckle, he pushed Saphira's wing out of the way and crawled to freedom. He rolled over onto his back and saw the young elf looking down at him with wonder. It occurred to him that Slenvi was the closest elf to his age he had ever met, even though he was still decades older. He wished to ask how old the elf really was, but the look he was getting shifted his train of thought.

"What are you looking at?" Eragon words might've seemed rude, but the way he asked rang with genuine curiosity.

"I'm bewildered I suppose..." Slenvi blinked once after saying this and looked away, trying not to offend the rider. He had met quite a few of the Old Rider's, and none had acted so... Natural.

"Bewildered?" Eragon was about to inquire further before Saphira cut it, rising to her feet and stretching like a cat as her mind surrounded theirs.

_I know his face is hideous, but we take it upon ourselves not to stare. _She snorted at her own joke, happy to see Slenvi looking away to cover an amused grin. Eragon narrowed his eyes at her but her humming melted his irritation. He chuckled and stood with a smile on his face.

"You're stuck looking at it, oh great blue one," Eragon brushed the dirt off his clothes, figuring he could bear another day in the same shirt as he hadn't sweat much in it yet. "He heard his stomach grumbled, highly audible in the near silence. He felt his face flush, unsure why he was embarrassed. Saphira chortled and laid back down, curling her tail around her. "She is so much like a cat," he mused, looking to where Blohgarm had laid some kind of animal to the spit the night before. It had been cut up and rationed out neatly. A question rose in Eragon's mind, why hadn't he thought about it the previous night? "You eat meat?"

The older elf looked to him, face blank like the answer was obvious yet eyes displaying a patience that only came from long years of life. "Indeed, some of us do." Eragon found that know he was the one bewildered.

"How? Elves don't..."

"We do under certain circumstances. Some of us become omnivores by choice, other by instinct."

_I have feeling you'll be learning a lot on this journey little one. _Saphira listened intently from her bed of grass on the other side of the smoldering coals, ready to spring into action should something happen. She felt fully rested as her rider did, and planned on using it to her advantage.

"What do you mean instinct?" He glanced into the forest, his eyes catching movement and his hand flew to his sword. But Saphira showed no alarm and neither did Blodhgarm, so he relaxed a bit. A few moments later, several of the spell-casters emerged from the tree line. Eragon frowned, puzzled and Slenvi chipped in to explain.

"When we trade parts of our bodies for those of animals, we give up a bit of our elvish to the animal in order to use the advantages." Slenvi gave a nod to Blodhgarm, signalling he was finished and the older elf could explain further, as he had no animal parts. Blodhgarm on the hand, had several, all quite obvious.

"I eat some meat because my forest cat parts demand it. I gave up my herbivore diet when I claimed my new teeth," Blodhgarm stated, flashing the rider is cat like fangs for emphasis.

"So when the enter the forest..."

"Indeed, they seek solitude in the woods because their instincts demand it. It is no insult to their company, just an undeniable urge." Eragon nodded, soaking in everything the elf said. He was fascinated, but didn't know where the line between curiosity and nosiness was drawn. The rider stayed quiet, thinking it all over in silence until Slenvi pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Eragon, it's time we head out. The longer we wait, the more the Red Rider and his dragon heal," he offered his hand to young rider, helping him to his feet and bowing his head respectfully before sliding back to his kind. Eragon moved to strap Saphira's saddle onto her back, readjusting buckles as he went. Thankfully, Saphira seemed to have hit a slow period, meaning she didn't grow as fast as she used to. It also meant she wouldn't out grow her current saddle anytime soon.

Turning to see the elves with their packs on their backs, looking ready and waiting, Eragon swung up onto her back. "Ready, Dragon Rider?" One asked. With a final knot tightened, Eragon nodded. They were off.

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I'm feeling eh about this one, it's sort of a filler in my mind. Now for some intense thinking on the chapters to come.


	15. A Learning Experience

Okay let's see, counting this one there are... One, two, three, four, five, six... chapters left... Unless... Oh whatever, you get the point. Story's almost over folks, keep reviewing! :D

I skipped Monday's update because it was a holiday (for my country at least c:) and I had plans with friends and family. I'm back on schedule though!

...I missed Thursday's cause I was at a friends. Oh well!

* * *

Thorn shuffled awkwardly along the ground, trying to keep up with his rider's slow pace, but he was dreadfully slow. It made him feel inferior, and with each step he growled. Murtagh kept a hand on the dragon's scaly side, offering a small smile for consolation.

They had gotten sick of just waiting for Shruikan to find them, it had been nearly a week since the King informed them he was sending the dragon. So they had been trying the past few days to make it as far as they could, inching closer to Uru Baen with every step. The process was time consuming and drained Thorn to near exhaustion by nightfall, but Murtagh was always there. He poured more energy into his dragon, hoping to help ease the pain, and in the mornings he put a small spell on Thorn's tail. It did nothing to heal the wound, as Galbatorix warned them not to try, but it did dull the burn.

With every step Thorn snarled profanities and Murtagh cursed the dragon that did this to them. Not only was it slow merely because of a dragon's anatomy, but the bite jarred from Thorn's movements. It made the young dragon irritable and snappy.

Murtagh was understanding , making sure not to take anything Thorn said to heart. It was hard at times, as his mind was connected to Thorn's and he had no way to escape the taunting, but he gritted his teeth through it.

They were both ravenous too. Thorn couldn't hunt for himself due to his inability to fly so Murtagh had to supply him food. The rider had managed to take down two deer in the surrounding woods over the course of the week, but it was not nearly enough to keep them going for long. Murtagh skipped out on a few meals so Thorn could eat more of the meat but he had already exhausted his rations. It was customary for him to carry enough dried food for a few days but it didn't last as long as he wished.

"Murtagh, how are you faring?" The king had ask them, some few days back. The Rider explained to the king that they were both tired, hungry and in pain. Apparently Galbitorix thought the situation was an ideal learning experience. He wanted them to learn something before he sent Shruikan to get them. Then didn't know what it was, but Thorn was enraged the following hours.

_Crack. _

Immediately they swung their eyes to the woods at their right. Thorn fought down a growl only so Murtagh could hear better. Whatever it was that made the noise was no longer moving though, and the red dragon's rider couldn't hear anything more.

They moved on tentatively, hating how the night's darkness obscured most things from their view. Even Thorn had trouble seeing more than ten feet off with his advanced night vision.

Trying to shrug it off, Murtagh continued with their slow pace, trudging along with Thorn following behind. The growls from his throat had calmed, but the rumbling from his stomach never seemed to cease.

The wind around them picked up, and they both heard a distinct thfump of dragons wings. Murtagh drew Zarroc with a quiet hiss, the metal dragging against it's leather sheath. He did not lift it in preparation for a fight, but the muscles in his arms tensed and Thorn was ready to burn the whole forest down if needed.

_Oh put that wimpy toothpick away Murtagh. _Shruikan swooped above them, purposely hitting the tip of his tail on nearby branches behind them to make the two jump. The black dragon's dark chuckle rang in their heads as he landed, swerving around the trees. His dark body wrapped around several trunks like a snake and his tail anchored him down. His neck snaked towards them and his flashed his teeth, golden eyes glinting with something else.

"Damn you Shruikan, frightening me like that," Murtagh barked, shoving his sword back in it's sheath.

_Who me? _The older dragons eyelid fluttered in a mockery of innocence. He chuckled again, his body gripping the trees he wrapped around with extra strength. They could all hear his scales ripping at the back as he moved even in the slightest. Murtagh was convinced his did this solely to kill the trees, and that the master took pleasure from death. _All _types of pleasure.

Thorn snorted at the thought, trying to hide his laughter. The idea was interesting the say the least, but he fought his mirth out of courtesy to his master. Shruikan noticed they were laughing at him, not with him. His own laughter drifted away and he resumed merely glaring at them both.

_I heard a widdle hatchling went and got his widdle tail bit off? Let's see it then. _With a cringe, Thorn let Murtagh remove the makeshift bandages. He whined but received a firm "hush" from Shruikan.

With a critical eye, Shruikan inspected every part of the wound at a painfully slow pace. Minutes later, the black master seemed to have seen what he needed. When Murtagh moved to rewrap the wound however, he stopped the rider.

_No, you would have to remove it again in a moment. _At their looks he explained further. _Unfortunately for the both of us, I have the _intense delight_ of licking the infected stump clean. _Thorn shuddered, pain already seeping up from his tail before his master even started.

The process was slow and painful, Shruikan tongue seeming to find all the places where fresh flesh was exposed and blood gushed freely. Amazingly enough, the master wasn't aiming to heal the wound, at least in their eyes. Instead he was ripping off scabs and tearing away any progress Thorn's body and Murtagh's magic had made in repairing the injury.

When it was over, Thorn trembled and collapsed to the ground, fighting his groans of agony. Murtagh, now infuriated with Shruikan from the pain he caused his dragon, turned on the black dragon. "What the hell? I thought you were supposed to be healing him!"

Shruikan craned his head up, restraining the urge to flick his tongue and free his mouth of Thorn's blood. He needed a drink, something strong and lots of it. The taste was horribly bitter and shudder inducing. _I said nothing about healing him Rider. _He turned his voice towards Thorn and caught the young ones gaze. _If you ever wanted to fly again, I did what was needed. The way you were going at it, you would've been left with a stump, incapable of steering yourself in flight. I reopened the wound because Galbatorix has far better means to heal, and ultimately regrow, your tail. _

Frustrated but satisfied with Shruikan's answer, Murtagh re-bandaged the injury. He understood the logic, but he felt his dragon's pain more.

"Well, what now?" Murtagh asked grumpily.

_Now, I leave you again to hunt down a decent meal for you both. _He saw the relief in their eyes, having heard Thorn's hunger earlier. He knew it was what the young pair needed to be ready for the next day.

_Go to sleep, I will not be far off. _Murtagh was shocked, "he almost sounded... caring," he thought, watching the dark dragon take one last look at them both and take flight. He couldn't dwell on it though, as Thorn fell asleep almost instantly with the feeling of being protected smothering his mind. The day had taken a toll on his body. He couldn't wait for the food Shruikan brought him, but his mind knew it would arrive must faster if he slept. Murtagh's mind was muddled with his, and he slid sideways to lay on his side, snoring softly.


	16. Off

I've been busy lately, so writing the chapters has been a little slow. Sorry everyone!

* * *

The duo's peaceful sleep was interrupted by a painfully loud _CRACK! s_ounding in the woods. Murtagh's eyes drifted open, bleary and confused. He couldn't see much, the fire Shruikan had lit for their warmth and protection had all but faded. His eyesight failed him and he sat up halfway. He heard Thorn awaken beside him, shifting heavily on the hard ground.

_Our first decent sleep in who knows how long and that stupid black dragon is waking us up so soon, _Murtagh grumbled into Thorn's mind. He had a feeling Thorn couldn't fully understand him. The dragon was barely awake, if not falling back to sleep already. Glaring out into the forests beyond, Murtagh leaned back against his dragon in wait. He knew Shruikan was just trying to sneak up on them again, scare them into reacting, but he wasn't falling for it this time.

With a quick spell Murtagh ignited the coals and Thorn blinked, wondering if it was morning already. When he saw there was no light on the horizon, he began scanning the area, sensing the annoyance in his rider's mind.

_I don't think it was Shruikan who woke you, I can't smell him-_Thorn was thrown sideways mid sentence, plowed into trees by a large force. He roared and flailed, swiping at who ever held him down.

Murtagh made a move to help his dragon but the broadside of a blade hit his back. He toppled over with a cry. Rolling over to see his attacker, he faced none other than his half brother, Eragon. Confusion showed on his face before he slipped into defense mode, one of his legs knocking Eragon over in a smooth swing to his ankles.

Murtagh rolled to his feet, ignoring the burning of his back to draw his sword and parry a blow. He noticed Eragon looked far more sure of himself than before, scared and curious as of why. When another blade caught his throat, he froze, knowing.

An elf stood behind him, pressing a knife to his throat and forcing him to kneel as Eragon stood in front of him, anger on his face like never before. To his right, he struggled to watch Saphira and Thorn wreck each other.

He heard his dragon roar seconds before pain blinded his sight. He gasped and choked, hearing a torrent of flame errupt, only to be followed by an inner feeling of warmth. He saw Eragon move to hold his stomach, knowing Thorn had caught Saphira on the belly with his fire.

Thorn knew his battle was lost before it started, his strength was no where near it needed to be, he could not fly, and he smelled the group of elves closing in around him. He felt the weight of their spell, forcing his head to the ground and stilling his limbs. He panted, but his mouth was abruptly closed. His nostrils flared as Saphira placed a forefoot on his muzzle, craning her head down to roar in his face again. He looked away, over to Murtagh with sorrow in his eyes. What a horrible way to die...

His eyes brimming with tears, Murtagh looked to the ground. The grip on his hair tightened and the elf behind him forced him to look Eragon in the eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" He half begged, the pain pulsing in waves from Thorn's body to his and vice versa.

Eragon explained the best he could as Saphira broke her way into Thorn's mind, cursing him with every fiber in her being. _Treacherous, slimy little bastard! _

_W-what? _He whined, her claws slowly scraping down his side. With a groan, his eyes fluttered to the back of his head and the word flushed with red, the pain unbearable. Murtagh screamed and struggled in the elf's grip, every vulgar word he could think of flying out of his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt for Thorn's mind desperately.

Eragon steeled himself, hearing Saphira slowly getting to the point some feet away as her claw tightened on Thorn's clenched muzzle. Then she froze, her grip loosening as her voice hushed, words exchanged between the two dragons unknown to even their riders ears. The she dragon backed up, looking terrified with herself and her actions and her eyes sought Eragons. Her mind flodded into his and his mouth flew open.

Thorn hadn't done it.

A deep roar sounded and Saphira was thrown away from the group and into the forest in a torrent of blue and black. Shruikan had arrived, and he was not happy.

Slenvi and the other elves quickly rushed to the she dragons aide, and in a snap judgement moment, Eragon's sword hilt found Murtagh's temple. The blow was not enough to kill him, but certainly enough to knock him out and get rid of the pain. Hearing Slenvi shouting, Eragon raced after Saphira.

"Get out of here, Eragon, we'll take care of him long enough for you to get away. Meet us in the mountains, there will be others waiting for you. Go!" Eragon had no time to think, he jumped onto Saphria back and they took to the air, running away from the scene below and their realizations.

If Thorn hadn't done it -Saphira assured him the red dragon hadn't- then that left one option.

It had been the Kings Dark dragon himself.

But something about the thought didn't seem right.

Something was off.

* * *

With this chapter, I say the wait for the next chapters will be long, they may not come at all.

I have a new story idea, and this one will not be continuing until the new obsession subsides.

Sorry everyone.


	17. Hum

So I've got some recent inspiration for this story (figures just in time for school to start) I'll try to get back on a schedule, but no way will it be twice a week. I might justp ick and day or go for it randomly, but hopefully I'll get this finished!

Onward!

* * *

Shruikan swept his tail back and forth on the ground like a broom, erasing any traces of the elves being there. Thorn watched with sleepy eyes, his body nearly numb from the pain. It had been three days since Saphira had torn open his sides, and the wounds had all but healed thanks to the Dragon Master. Shruikan sat on his haunches with a sigh, a puff of smoke escaped his nostrils. He was tired of rescuing the younger from danger constantly, but he would never leave him stranded. He knew it was high time for him to leave Thorn alone and force him to figure out his own problems, but the old dragon couldn't bear it. He was so close to maturity, Shruikan couldn't lose him now.

Shruikan flicked his eyes away from the red dragon, pushing away all the things he wished to say. This was not the time to show emotions; not the mushy ones at least. He was just so proud, the feeling filled him to the brim. Thorn had survived, and best of all, he was nearly ready! He had gotten so close with all the others, but Thorn was the first to get this close! Just a few more weeks was all Shruikan needed, just to be sure. He cleared his throat and shook the thoughts away; Thorn and Murtagh needed him focused on the matter at hand, not his old self's musings.

"So what do we do now?" Murtagh grumbled, nursing the bruise on his head. Eragon had hit him hard enough and his head throbbed. He refused to complain though, Thorn had been fighting the urge to vomit for the past few days. He met Shruikans eyes but saw nothing revealing there, the Master was back to guard himself.

The first day, Shruikan had doted them both with hot food and long breaks of rest, leaving the relentless drilling to answers until the day after. Even then, the master had been strangely protective. He had kept the forest creatures and their curiosity away day and night, guarding them should Saphira and her rider dare to return. It seemed Shruikan had fallen out of that mood that morning after two whole days.

"_We wait,"_ Murtagh frowned at Shruikans answer, hating how he was always so vague.

"For what?" He fought to keep the desperate frustration out of his voice.

"_For the signal to move." _Murtagh swore openly and stood up; he was sick of this!

"Signal from who? Galbatorix? How's he supposed to know when we're ready 'to move?' He's miles away! In a different country!"Shruikan flicked his gaze away and they sat in silence for a few minutes, Thorn busy calming a fuming Murtagh. He convinced his rider that sometimes wiser must remain vague, or else someone would become even more confused. Murtagh sat back down with a grumble, not liking being treated like an idiot but not necessarily fighting it either.

Eventually, Shruikan spoke again, _"We move today." _He heaved his black body up and stretched quickly, looking to the young two with expecting eyes. They glanced at each other before rushing to prepare, not really knowing how they were getting home. Thorn wasn't looking forward to walking the whole way. Shruikan seemed to know what they were thinking about, and the old master snorted.

"_Don't be a fool hatchling, you will not walk! I am to carry you and your rider." _Murtagh whip-lashed at his words and after sharing a look with his rider, stepped forward, questioning.

"You can do that?"Shruika seemed offended at the comment.

"_Of course I can! You reach a hundred and eleven years old and you can lift far more than a two year old hatchling!" _Murtagh still wondered if the master could really carry Thorn over that distance, if at all, but he kept silent. Thorn's eyes widened when Shruikan unfurled his wings and rose above them with a torrent of wind.

"_Unless you plan on running the whole way, Rider, I suggest you climb onto my back before I leave you behind," _Shruikan grinned evilly and latched his forearms around the smaller dragon. It was almost a hug of sorts but Murtagh didn't have time to comment on the picture as he climbed up Shruikan's shoulder and hung onto his back, thankful for the dragons spikes.

They sped away, Shruikans speed evident even with the load he carried. Thorn could help but admire, knowing he would get there eventually. A wave of sadness washed over him when he realized he might not be given the chance to live that long.

A smooth presence surrounded his mind gently, and his master spoke softly. _"You would do well to guard your thoughts more carefully in enemy territory, some less friendly than I might capture them." _Thorn turned his eyes away, trying not to glance up to his master, whose head lanced out above him, slicing through the wind easily. He didn't know whether to apologize or just cast up his barriers, but Shruikan hushed his minds ramble. _"Relax young one, you are safe, and as for living to be as old as I; You have plenty of time to grow old, Thorn, just take life one step at a time." _

It was moments like these Thorn caught a glimpse of the dragon that once was, long before his kind was massacred and his claws were dirtied with the blood of the innocent. Thorn didn't know his father personally, Shruikan had only given him a name and a description, but he liked to think he would've been a little like the Shruikan he saw briefly. Thorn was pleasantly surprised when Shruikan hummed at him, and he joined into the moment wholeheartedly.

* * *

There you go, a bit of insight into Thorn and Shruikan's master to pupil relationship and the three are on their way back to the capital! More soon!


	18. Growling and Hissing

Chapter updates are going to be random from now on xD

Weeee!

* * *

Eragon winced as the movement sent jolts of pain into his shoulder; he sported an injury through Saphira from where Shruikan had tackled her to the ground. He heard her growl through their connection and he fought back a smile. This was the first time she had been caught unawares in a heated situation and not him. But Saphira chided him; he was focusing on all the wrong things!

If Thorn wasn't lying, and Saphira highly doubted he was, that only left one other known dragon that could be the father of her two eggs. In an effort to steer her anger away, Eragon asked her how she thought it happened. Saphira had set herself to finding out how it could've, and why she magically forgot the whole evening. She didn't get as intoxicated as easily as humans, the magic in her blood fought the alcohol. She hadn't drink that much either, it took several large kegs to get to that point; yet it did happen apparently.

Eragon had left her frowning and musing to herself in their elven tree home to venture to the sparring grounds. He had a feeling Saphira would be pushing for revenge on the dark dragon soon and he wanted to be prepared. Not knowing who would be his teacher today because Boldgharm still hadn't returned, Eragon mentally ran through a list of all the elven master he knew. The reminder sent a thread of fright through him, straight to his heart. What if they never came back? What if they were dead?

He thought of his new friends as a wave of guilt washed through him and to Saphira. She tried to comfort him and dispel the evil thoughts from his mind. _Eragon, they knew what they were getting into, they were there as our backup. You know they would be honored to have died to defend their dragon rider. _

Her last words had the opposite effect on her rider; he grew angry at himself and took it out on the elf he was sparring. His bows became enraged and overpowering, he nearly hacked through the elf's sword in his fit. Everything around him slowed and the he watched as the elf's moves grew sluggish and predictable, he was letting him mind go, something was taking over.

He disarmed his opponent and stood there, chest heaving in long, steady breaths. He didn't know what to do, all he knew was he wished for another enemy. He swung his eyes all around, looking for someone to step up and oppose him, but none did. They look absolutely terrified, scared witless by what he looked like. _What, have they never seen a rider before? _He scoffed to Saphira, who chuckled, taking interest in who he currently saw the world.

"Eragon! What are you doing?" A voice screamed at him some 20 feet away, blasting him back to reality. All to quickly the special sight faded and he stood there, the sword in his hand suddenly feeling heavier and time was going far to fast.

He turned and Arya stood there, seething with her arms across her chest. He just stared at her as she walked closer and started to chide him, hissing lowly about being irresponsible and childish, but his mind was stuck on how she looked.

Three months ago he would've been thrilled to see her, eager to stand closer to her and lapping up everything she said. Now that feeling was gone, replaced with utter indifference. He didn't care for her, if anything he disliked her now. He remembered all the nights she had kept him awake with false hopes and advances that were never taken seriously. _What had she called it?_ He thought for a moment, _oh right, childish. _

He kept his face stony as he tuned back into her little rant just in time to hear the worst part:

"Mother was right, you should've never been allowed to keep that dragon! You're a trouble maker, your far to weak of mind and of body! You're _childish!" _Her eyes cast around them, as if hoping no one else heard her. Eragon's hand visibly twitched; he fought to urge to hit her with something. He wanted to though, oh bless the gods, he wanted to!

Instead he waited for her to stop before marching closer to her, far out of striking distance in case his will should fail him, but close enough so his message was clear as he walked past. "Bitch," he growled out, pausing by her side before continuing on his way. He understood that turning his back on her was insulting enough, and adding those words would probably get him into trouble, but for once he didn't care what the elves thought of him. He wanted others to hear him!

If what she had screamed was true, the elves already hated him from behind those stony faces, the respect they showed was forced or false. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword as he walked out of habit, ignoring the looks he received as he made his way through the city.

He heard Saphira click her teeth in appreciation before digging back into the carcass she had found in the depth of the forest. He didn't think he needed her back just yet; the elves still wanted to keep a dragon on their side, they wouldn't risk loosing that. Attacking him seemed completely out of the question, so when he reached their tree house, he allowed himself to relax. He refused to stay upset over he words any longer, instead he pour himself a glass of sweet wine and fell into a chair with a sigh. _Why did I sign up for this?_

* * *

So I decided I'd write another chapter before supper today, and I think it turned out alright. It if could change one thing about it though, it would be Arya's rant. I don't think I explained it well enough and generally this one doesn't flow as well as I would've liked. Oh well.


	19. The Cat

Eragon glared down at his bloodied knuckles, ignoring the creaking tree in front of him. His mind raced with worry. _They're not back yet, something's wrong, I know it!_ He gritted his teeth and clenched his hand into a fist, preparing to strike the trunk a third time. _It's my fault, I was so careless! Of course Galbatorix sent them a guard!_ He cursed his arrogance as he sank to the ground and turned to rest himself against the tree.

Tilting his head back, he stared towards the sky with blank eyes. The sky was overcast and the sun was trying to push itself through the clouds to no avail. The grey sky darkened and rain began to fall. Eragon didn't move as his face and shoulders started to soak. The cool water spread down his stomach and into his trouser thighs; only his backside remained dry after a few minutes. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree behind him. The wood creaked and swayed as the wind picked up and leaves were ripped off their perches and thrown to the ground.

Shuddering with the cold, the dragon rider didn't move. The rain drowned out any sounds other than the trees around him and the sun had all but disappeared completely. He heaved a great sigh and rubbed his face with his hands; he was surprised no one had followed him. What he had said to Arya was inexcusable and he knew it, _I will have to apologize to her tomorrow_, he told himself. He flexed his hands, noting that the burn had settled into a dull ache.

The rain lasted for several more minutes, and Eragon spent that time sitting on the forest floor with a frown on his face; he didn't want to apologize! She had bad mouthed him, and Saphira! Regardless of her position, she owed him a mutual respect, something he thought was an unwritten rule. _Well apparently, she has forgotten..._

His woes filled his head until the sky cleared and his stomach grumbled it's demand. Though he couldn't judge the time correctly due to the early dark, Eragon reasoned it was probably mealtime back with the elves and pushing himself off the ground, he started back towards them. Sucking his maliscious feelings in, the dragon rider composed himself within the first few steps; a handy trick he owed to Oromis, his past teacher.

Regaining his senses, he grew aware of the sounds of padded feet behind him. He paused, _four of them?_ The animal was relatively large but no where near Saphira's size, Eragon guessed as he turned around and swept his eyes around him, searching the foliage. His hand fell to where his sword would be but the weapon lay sprawled on his bedroom floor instead of hanging securely on his hip. He flicked his eyes this way and that, calling upon Saphira just in case.

_An animal?_

_Apparently so..._ Eragon crept in a random direction, hoping to get a response from the creature. Gods know why he was doing all this, something to do maybe? _Am I really this bored..?_ He asked himself and backtracked to where he had sat, hoping to find some sort of trail or tracks in the mud. Crouching down, he spotted a print.

_It's a cat,_ he stated. Saphira snorted at the idea.

_A cat's stalking you. Mealtime maybe?_ The idea was possible, but not likely. He had heard it creeping nearby, meaning it either wanted him to hear or didn't care if he did. Either option meant the animal wasn't trying to sneak up on anyone.

Lifting his head, Eragon looked directly into the eyes of a forest cat. He froze and watched it stand some ten feet in front of him, motionless. He gulped for reasons unknown. He could defend himself against a wild animal. Or was this just a distraction? Still not able to remove his eyes from the cat, he opened his link with Saphira and let her search his surroundings.

_I've found nothing out of the ordinary, but stay on the safe side, little one._ Eragon exhaled slowly and stood up again. The cat just watched, observing with patience. Wanting to know what the cat was thinking, Eragon entered it's mind effortlessly.

Pictures flooded his mind and colors rushed by, smells and sounds hit him like a tidal wave and suddenly the world was painted simpler. Colors were muted and shapes blended together, yet he could sense every creature in the forest. He heard birds flutter over head nervously and prey talking to each other. He saw himself, standing in front of him. His clothes masked his body and his lone figure looked foreign. He didn't fit into his surroundings, his body stood out and he reeked of man.

His scent stung his nose and he became painfully aware of the stench of Saphira that soaked his clothes. Her scent cast a calm blue around him that mixed with others: grey for the rain, greens and yellows for the food he ate that morning, and a dark purple for the wine he had tasted the night before. Eragon jolted himself back to reality; he wasn't in his body anymore!

He looked around wildly, and it took but a few minutes for him to realize he was sharing his mind with the cat. What is going on? The only one he could maintain this type of connection with was Saphira, and after a double check with her, he knew for sure this was not his dragon.

An image of Blodgharm came to focus in the cats head, his mouth moved and sounds were heard, ones Eragon could not understand. The cat translated and Eragon was left in awe,_ he sent you to find me?_

After an unspoken confirmation, the Cat turned to lead Eragon away. Worried about his body and what would happen to it if he left it unattended, Eragon retreated back to his own body. The cat looked back to make sure he was indeed going to follow, then led him into the underbrush.

* * *

Don't know what to say about this, other than this story is dragging out longer than I expected... :/ Oh well, whatcha gonna do, right? Next chapter soon-ish.


	20. No Limit

Damn me and my stupid story ideas: how do you guys feel about a **part two?**

* * *

Rain soaked through his shirt, leaving him cold to the bone. Eragon kept his head ducked and his eyes watched the wild cat's back paws move forward and back in a steady rhythm. It's tail twitched back and forth, and Eragon liked to think it didn't enjoy being out in the rain either. He hunched his shoulders over and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at the goosebumps on his bare skin and shivered a bit.

Random fluctuations in showers kept him shuffling with mud slicked boots and drenched everywhere. He risked a glance to the side and was awarded with a droplet landing right in his eye. Blinking it away, rapidly he sought the cat's mind again, hoping they were close.

The cat found it fit to relay Blodgharm's message as they walked so Eragon would have less questions when they arrived. Eragon kept asking one over and over again, "what happened?" After a few minutes of Eragon trying to get the Wild Cat to speak, hoping it could for some reason, the Cat turned it's head and glared. Eragon quieted himself sheepishly.

He found his mind being sucked into it's memories, pictures of Blodgharm flashed by. Slenvi was there too, which Eragon started to ask about before the Cat reminded him to be quiet. He settled in to wait for his answers as he walked, eyes scanning ground so he wouldn't trip.

_Eragon, I see Filene has found you, _Eragon's head snapped up, searching for Blodgharm, who had spoken into his mind. After figuring out he wasn't nearby, Eragon figured they were sharing a mental link. He looked for the particular strand in his mind but found none, only the link to the cat's mind remained. He paused and stared at the wild cat, questioning.

_Eragon, I see Filene has found you,_ the message repeated. Realization dawned on the rider. _He sent a message with the cat to explain along the way. _Smiling at his discovery, Eragon dove fully into the cat's mind. He was suddenly giddy, happy to be hearing his friends voice again; to think he had thought Blodhgarm dead not two days ago.

_Eragon, I see Filene has found you. I apologize for leaving you worried for the last week, undoubtedly wondering about our disappearance after the incident with the King's Dragon. Unfortunately, the situation provided a perfect escape for me and a few others. We never wanted this war Eragon, we never agreed to it. Queen Islanzadi tricked us into service many years ago and this petty war was the breaking point. _

Eragon swallowed thick, his mind heavy with thought. _Petty war? _He frowned at the words; the war was his life. He dared say things in Alagaesia would be absolutely boring without it. Fighting he could deal with, politics he could not.

_I do not speak lightly, Eragon, for though I do not side with Galbatorix on any means, I would rather serve him than Islanzadí if forced to choose. It must seem brash and completely traitorous to you; I wish you could see our side of the story. _

Blodgharm's words struck home; Eragon felt sick as they repeated in his mind. What was the elf not telling him?

_But I will not mutilate the story in such a short time, you must find someone far wiser than I to retell the tale over a span of years. The history of Alagaesia is dismal at best, and downright deadly most of the time._

Oromis had never gotten to the history of the world, they had been far too busy curbing Eragon's magic skills and teaching him virtues: patience, honesty, and loyalty. They had practiced for hours the secret spells of the Dragon Riders, and drilled through new fight moves that took advantage of his powers. _ Many who shall be left unnamed died trying to hide it, and many more live to keep it concealed. I beg of you Eragon, find a teacher who will guide you after today. Oromis is gone, and he wouldn't have have wanted you to live in the dark, fighting for all the wrong reasons. _

_Now that I think about it, Oromis never dug into any history lessons at all, _Eragon thought to himself, perplexed. He was trying to add everything up, and he hated that things always needed to be spelled out to him. _What am I missing?_

"Hello Eragon." His link with Filene snapped suddenly and he looked up, finding the animal standing beside a figure just standing there in the rain. It took Eragon a moment to recognize him.

"Blodgharm!" Eragon cried and sprang to hug the elf before Blodgharm could shoo him away. His smile returned, the nagging thoughts washed from his mind. Blodgharm truly was alive.

"Eragon, please, we don't have time for pleasantries," Eragon stepped back and saw the dark circles under his friends eyes. His mind was filled with questions. He thought of Slenvi and he wanted to ask even more questions, but he didn't dare. Blodgharm had this serious look about him, he looked wary and weary, like he hadn't slept enough in the past week.

_Talk in your head to me Eragon, we cannot risk anyone else hearing what is said. _

_Alright... _Eragon held back his wonderings from his connection with Blodgharm and waited quietly for the elf to explain everything. Sadness filled him when he remembered Oromis's teachings of patience.

_Missions to capture the green egg kept ending with distaster, Islanzadí was getting desperate. We could not take the Empire without more Riders. We had a female, so the Queen schemed a plan to solve everyones problems. She needed Saphira with child, fast. She sent me for Angela and took the witch into her tent. I was sent out to watch the entrance, but I heard enough. __Islanzadí forced the witch to concoct a potion that would knock your dragon out for a few hours, a long window for her to poison her. _

_Do you understand what I am saying, Eragon? Saphira may be with child but she has never mated. It was the Queen, it was all the Queen. _

Eragon bit his tongue, desperate to ask the questions that had been building since he first saw the cat. What Blodgharm had said hadn't registered yet, Eragon's mind was to full of unanswered ideas, free running doubts.

_Once the deed was done, Islanzadí sent me to get the witch once again, this time to take her into the forest and return her to the trees as payment to the Menoa Tree. Apparently she owed payment for hepl impregnating Saphira. _

_Once Saphira lays, Islanzadí will take the eggs and bind them with the Rider's spell. But she will not wait for their true riders to show themselves, she will search for an ancient spell, one that will force them to bond with whomever she chooses. _

_There is dark magic surfacing, Rider, and you and your dragon are in the midst of it. Flee to where you believe you are safe. I cannot take you with me or tell me where we are headed, the Queen will never stop searching for you. I will meet you for the next summer solstice, it is our one time window before we sail. For where I do not know, but Slenvi is designing a boat like no other. _

_I must leave you Eragon, you must return to your home with Saphira. Leave as soon as you can, and get out unseen. Do not speak of this meeting, it will cost you your complete freedom. Keep Saphira by your side, and she in turn, will stand by you. She is your greatest ally. _

Eragon hadn't realized he had closed his eyes while listening to Blodgharm talk until he found himself standing alone in the rain. His shoulders sank as the confusion and sadness returned. Anger rose and burned in his throat. _How dare they do this to Saphira, have they no hearts? _Eragon screamed into his mind, not caring he was shouting into the depths of the forests also.

Eragon found himself punching a tree trunk once, twice, thrice. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. _Have they no boundaries? No limits? _He asked angrily, pictures of his beloved dragon flashing though his mind.

He realized Saphira had far more reason to be furious than he; she would set fire to the ancient forest given the chance. Her rage would be like nothing ever before, and the idea was not at all unpleasant to him. He wanted to see those elves pay.

But inside the rage was already sinking, his mind was merely trying to hold on to this new power, hoping to drag it out for as long as it could. The anger fell away, and Eragon realized they couldn't take revenge, it would only give away that someone was less than satisfied with Islanzadi and her way of governing. Any rash actions he let Saphira and himself make they would pay for dearly, more than likely with their complete freedom.

_No, _Eragon thought, _now is the time for planning, not action. _He stood a little straighter, reaching down to wipe the blood off his knuckles and composed himself. He fixed his sleeves and tightened his belt. Now they had to fly further than they had ever flown before. They had to leave as Blodgharm had advised. _Live to fight another day, _he allowed himself a slight smile at a thought, _Live to fight the Queen..._

But where would they go, and more importantly, would they make it? These questions surfaced above all the others, more urgent in his mind than petty worries like how he was supposed to apologize to Arya.

He needed to focus now, he didn't dare share any of his new learned information with Saphira through their link. He needed her focused too, he wouldn't be able to keep up with her and calm her down if he didn't tell her face to face. He had to keep their conversation short and sweet.

_Saphira, can you come get me? _

He heard his dragon snort in amusement and felt her stretch her wings, readying for her take off. _Do you have any idea where you are? _

_N-... yes. Blodgharm told me before he left. _Feeling her stop short in shock, speechless, he continued. _ I have a lot to tell you, Saphira..._

* * *

Wow, this chapter is long time coming, I hope it was **worth it**...

Any thoughts guys?

As I said at the top, I've been toying with the idea of continue this passed these next few chapters (where I planned on ending it originally) yes? no? maybe? **I need to know people!**


	21. Let's Do This

How do you guys feel about a **part two?**

* * *

Sitting himself down at the base of a tree to wait, Eragon clasped his hands together and thought over the events of his day. It was overwhelming in all honesty; he fought to wrap his mind around it. Staring into the shadows across from him with blank eyes, he allowed his thoughts to wonder.

_Oh Saphira, what are we going to do? _He asked as dipped his head and rested it in his hands, sighing deeply. Saphira couldn't get there soon enough, yet he wished to prologue his solitude. He did not look forward to explaining everything to her. But he had to, and he would...later.

Saphira landed her great body some ten feet away from him, careful to avoid trees and thorn bushes. The dragonness hated the minor scratches from the thorns that always itched. When her eyes fell upon Eragon, her mood fell also.

_Little one? _

He lifted his head and gave her a sorrowful look, his face pale and his eyes sunken. Immediately she rushed over, crooning to him softly and urging him to tell her what was wrong. All he could bring himself to do was cry to her, muttering things she could not understand.

"Saphira, my beloved Saphira, how is it we have inherited all the bad luck in the world?"

_Eragon, what is wrong? _She nuzzled her gigantic head against his side and hummed to him. _You must tell me or I cannot help. _He rested a hand on her muzzle and leaned his head on hers.

_Saphira... I cannot tell you all I have learned, not until we are far away from here. But believe me when I say we must leave, and fast. _She lifted her head away from him and looked down at her rider, sitting there motionless in the dirt.

_Well then, if it is speed which you seek, let us be off! _

With a quick jump into her saddle, Eragon was lifted into the sky on Saphira's back. With the wind, his troubles seemed to blow away. He returned to his usual, happy self within minutes of swimming through the bright sky. He found himself laughing with the delight he shared with her and forgot all about what Blodgharm had said, the elves, and the queen altogether.

He screamed with delight, raising his arms high in the air. Saphira smoothly performed a roll and a flip with such ease only gained by practice. He could feel her massive sides shaking with laughter. He couldn't help but smile even wider, glad to leave his worries behind.

_Where to, my rider? _

_Our tree house, oh magnificent blue one! We must pack for tonight and rest up. _Eragon replied, pointing a hand in the general direction, his face twisting into a funny smile. Saphira couldn't help but laugh.

_Oh Eragon, what would I do without you? _Saphira asked. A trickle of sadness ran through his mind, a remnant of his sorrow earlier. He knew what she would be doing without him, she would be waiting inside her shell for her rider to come and break her from her prison.

Bits of his thoughts crept over to Saphira through their mental link. She slowed her flight, nearly hovering in the air. Now was the time to shove all the negative thoughts out of Eragons mind.

_Now you listen to me Eragon, what ever Blodgharm told was not your fault, we're in this together and I would chose you above any other. Even if Galbatorix swore to give up his kingdom in exchange for you, I would grab you and fly as fast as I can. No one can take you away from me, and I will never leave you. Now stop all this nonsense and pull yourself together, if we're to leave tonight without anyone knowing we can't be acting suspicious._

Eragon knew she was right, and with her words his resolve hardened. He needed to do this, for her, Blodgharm, Slenvi and Angela. For who ever the elves had stepped on to get what they wanted. He was doing this for himself, and his dragon, his partner of mind and soul.

With a shake of his head, he offered her an evil smile, mood swinging rapidly from sad to sadistic stubbornness. It might be wrong, but he was going to do it anyways.

_Let's do this. _

* * *

I don't like emo-ish Eragon, it doesn't suit him at all. He's supposed to be the happy go lucky one in my mind. I don't like this particular chapter, but the last part was significant and I LOVED empowered Eragon setting himself to their plan! Woot!

Wow, this was a quick update, but the chapter is definitely on the short side, so I guess it evens out.

Thanks to _Princess Arya_ for being my Beta Reader for these last few chapters, and hopefully many to come! We're still working out a system, but it's getting there xD


	22. Too Bad

How do you guys feel about a **part two?**

* * *

Shruikan stretched his great length this way and that, grinning with relief at the numerous pops he felt. He yawned and crept his way down the hall, his tail sweeping behind him.  
It was difficult to overlook the giant dragon but he felt at home amongst these obsidian walls and marble floors. Taking in his usual surroundings, Shruikan made his way to the meeting room at a leisurely pace. He was in no rush, and if Galbatorix had a problem with him taking his time, the human could kiss his scales.  
_Good morning to you too, Shruikan._

Shruikan smirked. _Galbatorix_, he offered in greeting. So began their normal morning routine, Galbatorix making his way to the meeting room from one wing of the castle as Shruikan approached from another. They preferred to speak before hand, especially on days like this.

Neither of them enjoyed meeting with the multitudes of dukes, barons and various chamberlains affiliated with them, all worried about their own lands. It was purely politics, and the two dreaded it more than facing the entire Varden army single handed.

_Who are we meeting today again?_ Shruikan asked, passing by the a door that smelled suspiciously like smoked pig. After a moment of staring at the door, longing, Shruikan dragged himself away, stomach growling. He was not particularly happy about skipping breakfast to meet possibly the most pig headed group of individuals in all the Empire.

_Considering we rarely have to meet more than once every moon, I dare say we have it pretty lucky._

Shruikan snorted a puff of smoke out through his nostrils,

_Say what you will, but no matter how many meeting you make me sit through, I will never understand mans obsession with borders._

_Excuse me? If I remember correctly dragons are territorial also,_ Galbatorix replied.

_Not to this extreme, if a male held as much land as any of them he'd lose it in a month. They over extend themselves, and you know it._ He heard the rider sigh.

_Yes I know, but Shruikan, don't you hold more land than all of them combined._ Shruikan clicked his teeth together several times; he did not like being outsmarted.

_With no males as worthy opponents it is hardly a challenge._ He felt Galbatorix nod at his honesty.

_What will you do once Thorn has grown? Let him challenge you?_

_Nonsense!_ Shruikan barked, rounding a corner and heading up a set of stairs, _I will set aside a portion of my territory for him once he had proven himself responsible... As if he was my son..._

_And the female?_ Galbatorix knew he was pushing it, but he was itching to know Shruikan's thoughts on the idea.  
_We must wait to see where her loyalties lie... But I am hopeful_. They came face to face in front of the door. They nodded to each other before Galbatorix heaved the giant doors open. The room on the other side fell silent.

Seated along the sides a mahogany table sat twelve individuals. Each stood as the two entered; in a single voice, they greeted their Emperor: "Good morning your Majesty." Galbatorix nodded to them and they all sat. Shruikan took his place behind his rider and leaned back on his haunches, eager to get the meeting over and done with.  
_You never did tell me how you managed to get Thorn and Murtagh back._

Shruikan glanced down to the top of Galbatorix's head and breathed heavily, causing his black hair to flutter._ It must have slipped my mind..._

_Now would be a good time to tell._ Shruikan closed his eyes and willed the scene to flash in his minds eye:

_He heard screams and saw the blue dragon take off with her rider on her back. His biggest threat gone, he turned his attention to the elves running around his feet._  
_Shruikan thrashed his tail and caught two elves with a powerful swing, plowing them back. Another elf was hit on the back swing, and Shruikan roared. A blast of magic hit his head and he stumbled back, closer to Thorn, whom he was protecting. He shook it off and kept swinging his giant tail, sweeping out with his forelegs to snatch another elf off the ground and throw it to the side._

_He reared up on his back legs, a near impossible feat, and shot flame from his giant maw. Fire spewed everywhere, catching on trees and spreading through the underbrush. He swung his head back and forth, knocking an elf aside. He was hindered on the ground, he fought best using his wings, but he had to stay grounded for Thorn._

_Suddenly, a voice rang and silence fell. He watched the elves step back, out of his strike range, and did not pursue them. He caught his breath as a dark furred elf stepped forward, still standing where Shruikan could not swipe him. "Dragon, the blue rider is gone, we have no reason to fight you now." Shruikan snarled at him but did not make a move to take advantage of their stillness. He heard Thorn shudder and slip to the ground, no longer able to hold consciousness. He swept his eyes over the elven spell caster. Half were sporting wounds that would take their lives by the nights end._

_But he was at an equal disadvantage, Murtagh lay unprotected behind a line of able bodied elves, and though their spears were currently pointing at him, the dark pelted one followed his gaze._

"The red rider then, in exchange for a favor." _Shruikan looked the elf up and down, not knowing what to make of him. They were far from equally matched, Shruikan was confidant he could strike down the remaining warriors with ease. Murtagh was his only weak point, but he was a large one laying there unconscious._

"I'm listening..."

Shruikan's projection fell away when one of the duke sprang from his chair in outrage, defending himself against a verbal attack from someone across the table. Shruikan shifted his bulk and stood, lifting his top lip and snarling threateningly. The whole room quieted and Galbatorix nodded to his dragon. Shruikan sat back down again, no longer willing to finish his story.

Galbatorix sighed, _I suppose this means you'll be off again... to uphold whatever this mysterious favor is._ Shruikan puffed smoke through his nostrils but confirmed his riders question.

_Within the week, I need to give the young rider enough time to think over his plans and for Blodgharm to deliver his message._

_Blodgharm? An elf?_ Shruikan looked away and Galbatorix completely ignored the counsel, turning his full attention to his dragon. _I don't like you keeping secrets from me, especially when they're concerning the blue rider and his female._

_You'll just have to trust me then,_ Shruikan snapped and took a sudden interest in the view outside the windows to his right. Galbatorix heaved a great sigh, his shoulders visibly lowering.

_I do, Shruikan, I do. Whatever you need for your mission, you have it._ He looked back to find all eyes of the table on him. He waved a hand and they continued their meeting, but the Emperors mind was elsewhere. Shruikan's secrets worried him, and even though his dragons scheming usually ended well, his kingdom hung in the balance. He couldn't afford too many big risks, not when he was so close to a breaking point in the war.

Instead of telling Shruikan all this, which he obviously knew already, Galbatorix whispered into the dragons mind softly before averting his attention back to the matters at hand, _you should talk to Thorn before you go, you are his mentor after all._

_Hmph._ Shruikan stood and moved towards the door, careful not to hit any nobles with his body or tail.

_I didn't mean right this moment..._Galbatorix didn't want his only ally abandoning him in the very middle of a meeting . The nobles would be damn near uncontrollable without the man eating lizard there in the room with him.

_Too bad_, and with that, he left his rider to the mercy of the court.

* * *

Look at me, all quick updates and snuff!

For _Alyss Mainwaring_, who presented me with a challenge I could not refuse.

Thanks to _Princess Arya_ for being my Beta Reader for these last few chapters, and hopefully many to come! We're still working out a system, but it's getting there xD


	23. Goodbye

**Second to last chapter xD**

* * *

Claws clicking on the floor beneath him, Shruikan made his way down various hallways and up a flight of stairs. Servants hugged the wall as he passed to give him more room, fear shown on their faces. He was known to occasionally gulp one of them down if they made the mistake of annoying him to no end. It wasn't that he found human flesh appetizing, just that making an example of one every so often made his life that much easier. It also earned him the title "Man eater," which sounded surprisingly pleasant to his ears.

He stopped in front of a giant wooden door and paused, gathering his thoughts before knocking a single claw against the arched mahogany. He heard someone approaching the door from inside and stepped back as far he could manage, not wanting to bump noses with someone again.

Murtagh pulled the door open and looked up at him with a blank face. _Is Thorn with you?_ Shruikan rumbled, subconsciously scenting the air wafting out of the rider's private quarters.

"Aye, did you want to speak with him?" The rider looked as if he had rolled out of bed moments before Shruikan arrived, and the dark dragon found his bed head and sleepy expression comical.

_That I did_, Shruikan replied. Murtagh nodded and left him alone at the door wordlessly. Shruikan heard the click of Thorn's claw before he saw him, and a few minutes later Thorn poked his head out the door. He too, looked sleepy, but after a puff of smoke hit his face he shook himself awake.

_Master_, he bowed his head a bit and trudged out the door behind Shruikan. The older dragon led the way down the hall and down a flight of stairs that took them outside. Windows let the light fall into the usual dark hallways, and Shruikan glanced up to the partially cloudy sky. He would have to leave soon to beat the storm, or wait it out. He'd prefer not to waste time due to the weather though, so he would have to move quick.

Shruikan opened his mind to the hatchling and let his thoughts flow wordless, watching Thorn piece everything together. The dark dragon took to the air suddenly, the granite steps cracking underneath his push. He heard servants close the great doors behind them but ignored the ruckus in the city below, instead focusing on Thorn's emotions.

_You're leaving, Master?_

Shruikan avoided his eyes; sweeping his sight over the vast plains beyond the city walls as he climb higher in the sky,_ Aye._

_To find Saphira?_ Thorn watched Shruikan nod his great head and they both leveled off, gliding on the high winds, bursting through clouds. Shruikan was flying surprisingly slow for once, Thorn enjoyed the lazy pace despite how troubling the news was to him. His tail was nearly healed, he had hoped to resume his training as soon as possible. He didn't like being shown up by the blue dragon and her rider, and Shruikan was the only one he knew who could help him with that.

_You won't need to worry about Saphira and Eragon for some time, young one._

_Instead I'll have to worry about you,_ Thorn growled, upset that Shruikan was leaving him so suddenly. Saphira was important, but Shruikan was his master, not hers.

_Are you under the assumption I will be fighting for the other side instead?_ Shruikan fell back on his old ways, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. He told himself this time was different, but he had an eerie feeling he might not see Thorn again once he left.

_You know what I meant_, Thorn huffed. He glared at the surrounding clouds and avoid eye contact.

Shruikan sighed, _I shall miss your company, red._ Thorn glanced at him, eyes showing his increasing sadness. He would miss the old goof, but he wasn't about to admit that. He snorted at Shruikan instead.

The older dragon took no insult from it; he moved on to another topic, _How do you feel about the blue dragon?_

Thorn looked at him and then down to the ground below, thinking about how to word his opinion. After a short wait, he stopped trying and just said what he felt. _She scares me._

Shruikan guffawed and Thorn let out a nervous laugh, unsure if he should be insult or just go along with it.

_Fear can be good, the female is indeed one not to be under estimated, he paused for a second, but neither should she be over estimated._

_What do you mean?_

_I mean you're the best pupil I've ever had the privilege to train, and her own was cut short, she's got raw talent, that's for sure, but you can, and should, always fall back on your training._

_I know, but... She always seems to gain the upper hand..._

_Then keep her on the ground. She was build for agility and speed, a descendent of messengers of old maybe, but I know you're lineage, you are a soldier, you're built like a soldier, and you're bred like a soldier. That, red, is your biggest advantage._

Thorn felt heat rise to his face. He wasn't used to being complimented so nonchalantly, least of all by one higher than him. The usual awe and fear of the commoners, but not his master. No amount of praise from the Lords and Ladies prepared him for Shruikan's words.

Shruikan noticed his reaction and grinned, glad to have steered the conversation to a gentler topic for them both. He was horrible with the mushy stuff. He cleared his throat gruffly,_ so I hear you turned one a few months back._

Thorn nodded slowly, flapping a fews times to sustain his altitude before following Shruikan along in a deep glide. The older dragon didn't have to flap as often as he, and he used to find it a challenge to keep up until he hit a growth spurt. Shruikan noted he wasn't the right size for a yearling and sighed.

_I'm sorry for the spells you have been put through, you know they are for your own safety._

_I know, I do not blame you or Galbatorix. If it was not for Saphira joining the Varden..._ He trailed off. They both knew why Thorn had to be large.

_Do not blame her red._

_Who can I blame?_ Thorn grew angry, his voice rising.

_Blame me, if you feel you must have someone to blame,_ Shruikan scolded. Thorn looked down, ashamed. He had not meant to snap, but he was sick of not being allowed to be mad. He watched the ground below with a frown until Shruikan spoke again. _You know you can call on me if you're ever in need, young one._

_It will be a long drain trying over such distances,_ Thorn pointed out. Shruikan tilted and lead them away from the city. This was not a time he wished to feel the eyes of hundreds on him, this conversation was private.

_You will have Murtagh to help you..._Shruikan watched Thorn dive suddenly and spook a flock of birds. _Remember what I told you about Rider, your connection is-_

_There to communicate in battle without your enemies hearing._

_But to keep it slight while fighting to avoid confusion, good good, you have not forgotten._ Shruikan landed next to Thorn. The younger sat on his haunches and wrapped his tail around him, staring out across the fields. Shruikan ignored the looks of nearby farmers and tried not to cause too much damage with his tail to the bountiful soil beneath them.

_Master... why must you leave? Why so soon, without proper warning?_ Shruikan sighed heavily and swept his eyes along the horizon, not really looking for anything.

_The Empire needs allies, we cannot risk the blue dragon to another force. The elves, and the Varden, will be looking for the pair. If caught by someone else first, their lives could be in danger,_ Shruikan trailed off, deep in thought.

_We need their allegiance, and they need our protection_, Thorn stated. He was right afterall, but Shruikan feared the negotiations wouldn't be as simple.

He stood, rising onto his great legs and looked down to his student, a sad smile on his face. He inhaled deeply and tasted the air carefully. The storm was growing closer, his window was closing. Determination hit him full force and he nudged Thorn to get his attention. _You must return to the castle, young red. I believe Galbatorix has some news for you also._

Thorn unfolded his wings without a word, their goodbye left unsaid. It was only once Thorn was far into the air when Shruikan called after him.

_And visit the eggs for your dear old master, Thorn! I don't want them growing lonely while I'm gone!_ With that, he snapped open his wings and took to the sky with a giant gust of wind. His life before was now officially on hold, his new journey was just beginning. It wasn't all that different than his adventures of the past, and certainly wouldn't be as thrilling, so why was his stomach filled with butterflies?

* * *

Holy crap on a cracker, this took a whole month for me to get around to! Dx So sorry guys! Schools been keeping me busy!

Princess Arya is having computer problems and therefor could not read and edit this one for me, hopefully she'll fix her computer soon, cause I suck at this more than I remembered! xD

**Oh, let me make this clear:** I have not read Inheritance yet, my copy is in the mail. Before I read it though I'm going to read the whole series over again. This is still set POST Brisingr, Inheritance hasn't (and probably never will for obvious reasons) happen. Please don't have spoilers in your reviews if you can help it guys :)

Thanks for reading!


	24. Alone

**Thanks so much for the support guys, I'm sorry it took so long for me to write this one (another whole month Dx) On the upside, I've been planning out Part Two during that time**

**Part Two still has a lot of planning but I think I've got a base to work with. I want to get an outline for the next few future chapters before continuing.**

* * *

Saphira swooped, her giant wings whipping air around them in a torrent that whistled in Eragon's ears. He squinted his eyes to keep the dust out of his eyes as she pumped her wings to slow and hover before their home. It was an odd looking thing, a sort of make shift tree house the elves had created in the forest overlooking the Varden camp. But the spell was rushed and the southern wood did not relent as easily, so the design was cruder than its Ellesmera counterparts.

Eragon unstrapped himself and leaped onto the platform built for his dismounts. He caught himself with a hand and steadied, teetering a bit. Saphira eyed him cautiously but it was merely the blood rushing back to his limbs. Riding Saphira for too long had its disadvantages.

He turned back to her and gave the dragon a sheepish smile, _maybe you should hunt before we leave. We shall both need our strength. _

Saphira huffed, _I fed this morning, Eragon, more would surely slow me down. Go, pack, I shall be up shortly. _She dove down and Eragon saw her land on the ground below. The entrance he used was mainly for take offs and it would be difficult to maneuver herself inside at this height anyways, so she took to winding up the great stairs around the trunk.

Inside, Eragon's mind worked frantically. _What do we need? What do we need? _He repeated to himself. He snatched a leather pack from out of his wardrobe, one that would traditionally be used to carry light travel supplies on their way to battle. It was old and slightly warn, but he had the time nor skill to craft a new one. He began shoving various items into the largest pockets. Clothes, a water canteen, a small comb for his hair, a bit of charcoal that Slenvi had shown him was a safe, non-magical way of cleaning his teeth. He paused, not knowing what to pack next.

Saphira's head appeared at the top of the stair case, licking her chops suspiciously. He gave her a look and she grin, showing a bit of blood between her own teeth. He chuckled but the stress remained in his shoulders. Sitting down in a comfy chair with a sigh, he gave her room to move. She slid her way into the tree house and set her body down, sighing as well.

For the first time in a few hours, the strain washed over them. Eragon set the pack down by his feet and leaned back into the cushions, closing his eyes. Saphira slouched as well, her great form folding into a lazy position. They exchanged simple feelings through their bond, keeping silent, not out of fear or caution, but pure exhaustion.

The thought of waiting another night crossed Eragon's mind for a second, but he quickly pushed it away. He felt Saphira think the same thing a moment later, and come to the same realization. They had to do this tonight, for if they stayed and saw their friends on the morrow, their courage would surely fail.

Standing, Eragon began to slowly add to his supplies once again. He felt Saphira's eyes follow him everywhere he walked, but he was not unnerved by her attention. They shared uneasy glances as he moved about the room, and twice she had to lift her tail to let him by.

When her finally sat down again, the pack was full. It now held a few bars of soap, the canteen was full, and he had packed enough food to last a week. The would only have to stop when Saphira got tired or hungry. Seven days would give them enough time to be past Surda's borders. A map was placed into one of the smaller pockets, folded neatly and tucked safely away.

He drew it out, unfolding it slowly, his hands shaking. He pulled out a quill and ink from one of the drawers of his desk and set to work. Saphira held her head above his, looking over his shoulder at his work.

Starting smooth lines from their current position, an equal distance between Aberon, Orrin's capital, and Lithgow, he laid out their plans. They would go west, skirting around the edges of the Beor mountains, far enough to to have a steady supply of food and water but not so far to be spotted by any Dwarves.

Eragon toyed with the idea of stopping and visiting Orik, but Saphira thought better of it, _We do not know who we can trust now, little one. Orik, maybe, but his allegiance to the Rebellion and his people? And what of the Dwarves he surrounds himself with? We do not know if they are as trustworthy as he._ Eragon nodded solemnly, moving the line away from Orik.

Once they passed Baragh and the giant valley that led into the mountains, they would turn and head North. No one would dare follow them into the desert, even Elves could not make it half way through the Hadarac in good time. Unless they brought a full 3 months supply with them, the would all wither and die. Or turn back.

He dipped the quill into the ink slowly, staring down at his handiwork. He sighed, they had not planned what to do after that. They had played with the idea of heading towards Carvahall, but Eragon feared that would take them too close to Ellesmera and the Elven front lines. Saphira exhaled on the back of his neck and nudged him, trying to cheer him up.

_Eragon, this is a big step for us. The fact that you are doing this for me is flattering, but you do not have to act like it isn't effecting you at all. You are allowed to be sad. _She nuzzled his neck affectionately and slithered away, leaving him to the map.

He felt his eyes water but fought the tears back. Now was not the time for such weakness. He stood and put the quill and ink away. He folded up the map in a hurry and stuffed it away again. He looked out the window to the see the sun waning, sinking below the canopy. He straightened himself, they would be on the move soon.

Hearing Saphira moving around on the level below, he set the pack on the table. The action brought his eyes to his hands. He gazed at his rings. Aren, announcing his as an elf friend, Brom had given it to him. He growled in disgust, remembering Arya held the same symbol, Yawe, in the form of a tattoo on her shoulder. He dared not give up the ring, it was his birthright and held immense power, but he could not stand the symbol any longer.

Summoning his magic, he began to scrap off the elegant carving. One day he would give this to his eldest son, but he wanted it to say something different. When the spell was finished, his strength wavered for a moment before Saphira gave him some energy. She eyed the rings through his eyes curiously, knowing what it now said with his mind.

Around the outside of the center gem, etched into the metal was a new message: _Dragon-Friend. _Saphria hummed her approval before receeding back her own mind. He smile down at the writing.

He glanced at his second ring, the one Nasuada had made especially for him when he pleedged his allegiance to her. It was a pretty thing, a simple but unique design. A large stone sat in the middle of a ring of other precious stones, far smaller. It was pretty, yes, but far less valuable to him. He took it off his finger and set it on the table.

It was of no use to him, not now. It could only hold a small amount of energy, and he could sell it any where without drawing more attention to himself.

He looked out the window again, the sky was a dark purple. Saphira moved up behind him and readied herself. He heaved the pack onto her back and tied it onto his saddle carefully, it would not do to lose it during flight.

_Are you ready, little one? _Eragon looked up into her eyes and nodded. She started towards the take off platform.

_You'll have to get above the clouds as quickly as possible. _She nodded in confirmation as he strapped himself in. She inhaled deeply and stepped out into the night. Eragon rested a hand on her shoulder and they both stared out into the dark for a moment.

Saphira dived and they were off. She swooped before twisting to gain altitude. Her wings were near to silent with a quick spell. Eragon exhaled heavily as they rose above the canopy and the Varden fires fell away from sight.

This was it, no turning back. They had no allies, numerous enemies, and only each other. This was there escape, a turning point in their lives, and they had no idea what to do next. They were on their own.

They were alone.

* * *

**This marks the end to Part One of Dirty Little Secrets. I hope you guys have had as much fun as I have :)  
**


	25. Part Two Begins

So begins **Part Two** of **Dirty Little Secrets**:

_ Hunted by friends and foes alike, Saphira and Eragon fly to their limits and beyond to escape the grasp of those who wish to abuse them. Has their worst nightmare just begun, or is it now coming to an end?_

_Halfway across the country, Galbatorix is fighting a war of his own. The Dark King has underestimated the Rebellion for the last time. He has called the banners and plans to ride to war, but will it be enough? Will his allies arrive in time to save his kingdom from crumbling or show up to the burning aftermath of the greatest battle in Alagaesian history?_

_Speeding his way south in search of the Blue Rider who has unexpectedly cut all ties with the Resistance, Shruikan flies to make it to the young duo before anyone else does. They will be the key to Empire's victory, should he succeed. But, faced with a growing threat from the West, will he be forced to backtrack to Uru Baen and aide the king in battle?_

For part two, I plan on improving my paragraph length and sentence structure. I'm also work on the plot a bit more than I did for Part One (it didn't have too many plot-twists, I'm afraid) and I'm hoping to keep you guys around to see what happens :)

I plan on updating once every two weeks, probably on Saturdays (or Wednesdays, I still have to work out my schedule) and I'm also bumping up the word count for each chapter. 1000 words or up is a little to wimpy for me, I'm aiming for 2000+ words. It sounds reasonable, yes? I have trouble with long chapters, so we'll see how it goes.

I want the first 3+ chapters done and the plot a smidgen more detailed before I post the beginning of Part Two, but I'm hoping to **start posting in two weeks** :) See you guys then!


	26. North

_Saphira, you must stop, you've been flying too long. _Eragon tried to reason with her, but Saphira kept silent. He had been trying to talk her into landing and resting, even for a little while, but with no success. He could feel the ghost of her pain in his muscles; her strain was his. He closed his eyes and pushed into her mind, forcing her to see reason. _If you exhaust yourself you will have no energy to flee if needed. Land, or you risk putting us both in danger. _It was logic she could not ignore.

With a growl, she began slipping below the clouds in search of a suitable place to land. Sparse forest covered the ground below, shrubs and small trees spread out in patches amongst a sea of dry grass. From their height, it took the appearance of a golden ocean, waves forming with every breeze. The grasses whipped and turned as they neared, Saphira's wings pumping gusts of air that made the sea toss. Once she tucked her wings in the windstorm ceased, and the plains quieted once again. The songs of insects filled the air as crickets resumed their chirping and the bug world determined it was safe to move again.

Eragon unstrapped his legs stiffly, his fingers sluggish. Though he may not have been the one exerting himself, Saphira's exhaustion was catching up to them both. Saphira set herself down on the ground and heaved a great sigh, closing her eyes. Eragon nearly fell out of the saddle when his foot caught in a tangle of leather. Cursing, he wrench his leg out of the saddle and tumbled down Saphira's side.

He landed on the ground with a thud and groaned a curse. Saphira watched him carefully for any signs of injury. Once he began moving again, she went into his mind to determine if he was in fact, hurt. _Eragon? Are you alright? _She slithered her head down to his level, bloodshot eyes scrutinizing his limbs.

He grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his ankle. There was no lasting damage, but he would be sore tomorrow. Having no energy to waste on healing it, he stood and trudged over to Saphira's saddle pack and rummaged until he found his supper. His stomach growled with need until he had finished his meal of bread and cheese. He was saving his strips of dried meat for later, when he was truly exhausted. He hadn't dared pull out a snack while riding for fear of dropping something, so the meal in his belly made him sleepy.

A few more weeks flying the same way and his stomach would surely shrink in size. As a peasant he had lived off far less; the life of a rider had made him ravenous when it came to dinner. Where he used to eat once a day and work the rest of the time, as a rider he consumed far more. Factoring in both Saphira and his training, it was understandable, but with his sitting in the saddle all day, he had to get used to smaller amounts food. Worse came to worse, he ate when Saphira ate and only then. With her body's support, he could live a dragons lifestyle. Except for the fact he wasn't the one flying, of course.

Another comfort he had grown to love was bathing regularly. It was also another habit he would have to forfeit. It would be near impossible to stop near a body of water where they were going, so he would have to tough it out. He nearly gagged at the thought of not bathing for a few weeks at a time, but in the back of his mind he knew he could manage it. He had before, and it wasn't as hard as his mind was trying to make it seem.

Eragon stared at the ground in front of him, the light waning in the sky above them. Saphira had flown them all night and into the next day without stopping. She had landed only to take a drink at a forest spring that morning, and then they were off again. _Normally, she would have been able to fly for a few more days at least, but she had been flying so fast! _Eragon thought, eying his resting dragon. A small smile rested on her face, letting him know that she heard his praise. He smiled back but resumed his thinking.

They had a long way to go, they would be nearing the Surdan border in the next few days. Saphira may have been fast, but once the Elves found out their plans -assuming they hadn't already- Saphira and Eragon wouldn't be able to stop as often as they often. _I think it's safe to say we won't be very well rested in the next few months... _Eragon sighed, rubbing his face with one hand while, settling back to rest. He could not sleep, just in case someone caught up with them already. Even though it was unlikely, there would always be a possibility. He would just have to sleep in the saddle during the day to let Saphira get as much sleep as she needed when they landed. Saphira peeked out from under one of her eyelids sleepily, yawning a bit.

_That sounds highly efficient actually, I could even pull on your accumulating energy during the day if I needed some as you slept. _Eragon turned his head away from the sky and to her.

_You should be sleeping now, _he scolded lightly. He didn't care if she took some energy from him when she needed, he had been planning on giving her as much as he could spare, but that didn't mean he wanted her staying awake all night.

Saphira closed her eye and shifted a bit, curling her head around her front legs. _It's not like I could sleep with your mind rushing with a stream of constant thought through my conscience. _He turned away from her and looked back to the stars, trying to find the one Garrow had showed him many years ago. Saphira sighed, _Sleep with me little one, no one will be catching up to us tonight. _

Yawning, he scooted closer to her giant body and tucked himself between her forearms. She hummed, making his whole body vibrate from being so close to her throat. Resisting the urge to lick the top of his head, she placed her head back down, covering him from the cold of the night and possible bad weather with her long neck. Her hum fell from a loud rumble to a soft purr, lulling him to sleep very slowly.

His eyes snapped open again, remembering one last thing he had to do before falling asleep. Muttering up his breath, he cast a concealment spell. _Now they can't spot your giant blue form from afar, _he thought sleepily. Saphira grunted lowly in confirmation.

_Tomorrow we shall see the Empire's border, _she breathed, slipping on and off into a dream of flight.

_If we're lucky, _Eragon answered.

Saphira snorted in amusement at the irony. _Never thought I'd hear you say something like that. _

Eragon smiled lazily, eyes fluttering between a state of sleep and awake. He yawned, situating himself as he reasoned his words. _The empire is just as much our allies as the Varden and Elves now, giant one. _

Saphira scoffed, _so not at all. _Eragon laughed drowsily, which Saphira thought sounded funny. Soon, she was chuckling with him. They were too tired to care how stupid they looked, a dragon and rider laughing at nothing apparent. Had anyone seen them they might have been declared insane. Eragon drifted out of his amusement, musing that they didn't have to care what they acted like now. They didn't have to care who saw them doing something, cause no one would.

_What if someone does see us? _Saphira asked quietly, opening her eyes to stare up into the sky.

She felt a wave of emotion rush over Eragon's mind, mostly anger and confusion, and knew his answer before he did. _We get rid of them. _

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. _Your becoming too much like me, little one. _

He grumbled, _just go to sleep Saphira. _She remained staring up at the stars until his breathing calm and his mind slowed, falling into dreams. Like usual, she was lulled by his sleep into her own. Her mind warped and she fell away from consciousness.

She dreamt of her mother, and her father. They were flying through the skies together, over a vast sea of sand. When she looked down, she was blinded by the suns reflection off the sands. She squinted to see but could not. What troubled her most is how the bodies of her parents wavering before her very eyes. It was like they were there, yet not. Two minds whispered against the walls of her own. They repeated a single word, chanting in soft voices. Swirling around her mind and imprinting in her memory.

_North. _

* * *

Dawn broke on the horizon and a horn sounded, the sound ringing through the continuous lines of pitched tents. Campfire coals had all but gone cold during the night and a dew lay on the ground. The birds began to awaken in the trees around the camp, the night animals slowly making their way back to their dens to sleep the day away. To the west, a lone hunter tied his kill and hung it over his shoulder, beginning to make the journey back to the camp kitchen with the fresh kill. The horn sounded again and a party of horsemen rode into camp, exhausted from their scouting.

Men exited from their tents and stretched, yawning and scratching various places on their persons. Every few tents, whores begged them to return to their warm beds. The men had finally been paid, Nasuada had taken a loan from Orrin to keep the men happy. The King of Surda had allowed her a bit of leeway when it came to interest, but not too much so to bankrupt himself. The night before hundreds of makeshift soldiers and traveled a league to the south and wasted their earnings on common ale and other cheap pleasures. The spirits were high in the Varden camp, the mood was lifted for once. But Nasuada, the Varden leader, was not happy.

"What do you mean he's just gone?" Nasuada asked, slamming her hands down on the table in front of her. Her hands stung with pain but she didn't notice she was so intent on her conversation with one of her captains. He looked nervous, as to be expected, but by the smell of him he had been one of the thousands to waste his money away in the city the night before. Nasuada scoffed and sat back down heavily, cupping her chin in a hand and leaning on her elbow. She thought for a moment, before glaring up at him from her wooden throne. "Was there sign of a struggle? Any at all?"

His eyes widened and he wrung a leather glove in his hands, "We have not examined their quarters. Yet! I shall send men to investigate immediately." He turned to rush out the tent but she stopped him with a sharp command.

"Captain, I would appreciate if you stayed a moment longer," she gestured for him to come closer and he trudged back to his place in front of her throne, looking surprisingly meek for a full grown man several inches taller and broader than her. Nasuada sighed and contemplated her options for a moment before returning to reality and addressing the solider before her. "We shall give The Blue Rider the benefit of the doubt, for the moment. If he is not back before sundown we shall search his quarters, for now we respect his privacy."

Rubbing her temples, she shooed him away and ignored the relief on his face. She grumbled about lack of sleep as her head started to pound. She had stayed awake all night looking over the maps that still laid before her. She growled and swatted them away, restraining herself from kicking the entire table.

"Eragon, what are you up to?"


	27. Raven

Eragon scanned the ground below for any signs of sentient life. All he saw was grass, grass, and more grass. The occasional tree popped up from the ground every few minutes, but Eragon grew bored with counting them.

Saphira had been looking for a quick meal a few hours before, flying as high as she could while still being able to see the ground. It wasn't working to well, he feared. Thankfully she wasn't too hungry just yet, she settled for rising above the clouds once again until night came when she could hunt closer to the ground. Eragon agreed with her and got himself comfortable for a few more hours of flight.

Now it was sunset again, two days since they had set off. Eragon rubbed his ankle, feeling a phantom of yesterdays sore still there. He wasn't worried enough to heal it with magic, but he thanked the gods he wasn't traveling on foot or by horse. He sighed, thinking back to when he broke his wrist with Brom. He had ridden Cadoc back then, as Saphira hadn't been large enough for him to ride for long distances. Even though it had taken them longer to travel far less distance, he missed those days. It had been less hectic and far more enjoyable, and he had time to see the country side instead of just sleep on it.

Saphira dipped below the clouds for a second time that day, allowing him a perfect view of the setting sun. He stared as it grew darker and darker, wondering if this was what his life would be like from now on.

_Saphira, do you need to stop and rest? _He asked, concerned. That was the only reason she would allow them to be visible again, unless she felt like trying to hunt. He placed a hand on her neck.

_No I am fine, last night was enough to keep me going, but I do wish to land and stretch my legs a bit, they have grown stiff. _

_Of course, do what keeps you comfortable, you're the one doing all the work, _he answered. She began to drop, slowly drifting towards the ground. She hovered a moment before landing, already starting to stretch all over. Eragon took this opportunity to pull some bread out of his pack and nibble on it. He wasn't really hungry, but he would be later, and he didn't want to fumbling around in the dark while riding looking for some food.

Suddenly, Saphira froze. _Do you smell that? _She asked, eyes growing wide. She began to swing her head in all directions, looking.

_What is it? _Eragon whispered, growing paranoid. All the worst answers came to his mind. He feared the Varden had caught up with them, or worse, the elves had. But Saphira didn't answer him, instead continued to eye their surroundings, her body tense.

_Eragon, it's a man made fire. I smell the smoke. I fear someone is camped nearby. _She couldn't see anyone. The horizon quivered with the heat, and turned everything hazy. The twilight also messed up her vision, her pupils were halfway dilated all the time. It put great strain on her eyes, and in turn, gave her a headache.

One thing she didn't understand was the volume of the smoke smell. It was as if a great many fires had just begun to burn, which was unlikely as no one lived out here. The maps they had seen, and the very one they traveled with, did not signal to a camp anywhere for miles. The only thing she could think of was a nomadic group setting camp for the night downwind. But even that didn't seem plausible.

She grew frustrated, flaring her wings and roaring slightly out of instinct. She did not like being taunted, and she certainly did not like being fooled. Unfortunately this brought her giant form to the attention of those who started the fires, a Imperial Fortress some miles away.

Now although Eragon and Saphira couldn't see the wooden walls of the little fort, one sentry on the wall spotted something unusual on the horizon. It was his job to look for anything that stood out and alert his superiors, and though this job may have not seemed important to some of his comrades, he took great pride in his precision when guarding the wall. It was a good thing he did, for this was by far his greatest discovery.

"Bring the Captain, I see something!" The young man yelled down to the yard below. The guards rolled their eyes, knowing how this would end based on his past "sightings" and trudged off to the captains quarters. The young man, Cren, tapped his foot impatiently and stared intently in the direction his discovery was, hoping it did not fly away before the Captain searched with his eyepiece.

He didn't know how the Captain's eyepiece worked, but he had started to save up his wages to get one for himself as soon as he saw it. The Captain had claimed the king had issued them out to all outposts, some new technology of some kind. Some called it witchcraft, but Cren knew it wasn't so.

"Cren! What is it boy?" Captain Brendon barked as he pounded up the stairs. He was an older man with hair of salt and pepper. He swished his mustache side to side, agitated. He had been enjoying a warm nap before the guards had woken him. "If I don't see anything, you're in big trouble!" He growled, pulling out his eyepiece. He stretched it out and placed it to his eye, turning his head slowly, searching.

"Boy, I'm going to take your lying eyes out with a sp-" Captain Brendon froze, his face paling. His hands began to shake for a split second before he steeled himself. He inhaled deeply and proceeded to roar, "Get me a raven! The blue rider has been spotted!" He closed his eyepiece and began to trudge back to his quarters, an unusual hurry in his step when a young guard ran to sound the horns.

Brenden screamed of his incompetence and ordered him back to watch duty. As the guard walked by, Brenden smacked his head, "You twit, sounding the horn would alert them of our presence! They would torch this place and kill us all!"

Brenden rolled his eyes, muttering to himself as he walked into his office and slammed the door. Being as they were such a remote outpost, his room held nothing but a desk, a chair and a lantern in one corner. His bed and chest stood on the others side of his room, waiting for night time to come so he could return to the creaky mattress. When they got the rare trader, he took care to buy something nice to bring home to his wife on his next leave, but his room was left very bland. He didn't want to grow so comfortable here he forgot what a real bed was like. He sat down behind his desk with a sign, dipping the quill into the ink and preparing to write the most powerful man in the Empire, the Emperor himself, Galbatorix.

His hands shook so hard he forced himself to set the quill down and steady himself, trying to decide whether to wait until the messenger raven arrived to begin the letter itself. He ran over the proper wording in his mind, careful to lay out the key details and keep away from unnecessary pleasantries. The Emperor had better things to do than read his kissing up nonsense.

_Your Majesty,_

_The Blue Rider and his dragon have been spotter a few miles out from Outpost 341. We have done nothing to provoke them, nor alert them to our presence. At the moment they seem oblivious, please send the necessary forces to capture the Blue Rider and his female dragon, along with our next orders. _

_Captain Brenden,_

_13785.20190_

He breathed a sigh of relief, setting down the quill once again. He leaned back in his chair and waited for the bird to arrive. His mind trailed to the rider and dragon, but before he could lose himself in his thoughts a guard knocked on the door, stating he held brought the requested messenger raven.

"Enter," the Captain barked, standing himself and rolling the letter up. He slipped the sheet into the messenger raven's pack and took the bird himself to the wall. He threw it into the air, watching it scramble to take flight and immediately turn itself in the direction of it's home, Uru'Baen. He watched it go, disappearing into the sky. The Emperor's magicians enchanted the raven's, giving them to speed to fly long distances in record time. Brenden still wasn't sure on how the birds got back home no matter what, hell, they were the only animal he knew of that memorized the location of it's home and could fly back from anywhere. The Captain remained standing on the wall until the sun set completely.

Cren walked up to him and turned to stare out into the distance himself, grasping his wrist behind his back. "What now, Captain?" He asked, curious on what their plans were. Brenden rubbed his face, sighing wearily.

"Now we wait, Cren, now we wait."

* * *

God it took me so long to get this "done" and it's not even over 2,000 words. Meh. Writing goals FTW.

Hope you guys like this! I'm unsure where I'm going to take Cren and Brenden from here, but I'd like to incorporate them into the story again, they're fun :)


	28. Going to Burn

"_How can you trust this "Captain Brenden" exactly? What if the letter was forged, or intercepted?" _Shruikan asked Galbatorix through their mental link. He soared through the skies, heading south at record speeds. He pumped his wings furiously, hoping to make it to his destination before he tired completely. He knew this was a false hope, but he still tried. It had been months since he had gotten the chance to test his endurance, so he fought to beat his old record.

Galbatorix stood in his council room, filling in his generals and Great Lords on the new found information on the whereabouts of Eragon and Saphira. They asked the same question as his dragon, remaining skeptical. "I assure you, gentlemen, Captain Brenden does not lie. We have similar reports from nearby forts as well. I am sure Eragon is flying in the region," he asserted, circling around Petrovya, a city they lost to Surda many years ago, and Orthiad, a well known Dwarven city towards the western border of the Beor Mountains.

Shruikan snorted, wanting to know the real reasons his rider trusted such reports so well, and went digging for it. Galbatorix did not stop Shruikan from snooping through his mind, he was too busy with the arguing Great Lord who held land in the south who had grown anxious with fear of their farms being burnt to the ground. Shruikan smirked, having found the information he seeked.

"_So, this Brenden is the product of a lonely night with a fine young lady some years ago? When we were driving the Dwarves back, eh? She must've been a pretty thing, ready to give her thanks to the new Emperor of the land,"_ Shruikan chuckled roughly, humoring himself. Galbatorix hushed him, but did not try to fight him on it. It was the truth after all. Though his son was far closer to death than he by now, nearly 50 and nearing retirement, Galbatorix couldn't have news of this getting out. As it was he had to silence the girl when she sent him news of his son. She was long dead now, the 'boy' had no idea of his lineage; he preferred to keep it that way.

"Lord Teron, please, calm yourself. Shruikan is flying south to capture the two and he will fight to keep your lands safe. Trust me that he will do everything he can, he is wiser than you know," Galbatorix assured the Great Lord, who leaned back in his seat, growing relaxed once again. Knowing that the King's dragon himself was fighting on your behalf was a comforting thought to say the least. The other Lords were appeased as well. The volume of the council room fell as they all calmed.

"Now," Galbatorix started, eager to move onto another subject with the previous one currently resolved. "Grand General Ren, what shall we do about the advancing Varden army?" The attention of the room turned towards the old General, who leaned against a wall opposite to the King at the other end of the table, by the doors that led to the hallway. He stepped forward, leaning onto the table with heavy arms, far more accustomed to wielding an ax than other, more delicate, pursuits. His hands were rough and his face calculating as he stared down at the grand map, engraved into the table with magic. A lesser general approached the Grand General, reading to add his ideas once Ren spoke, but the room remained quiet.

All of a sudden, General Ren climbed onto the table and walked forward, carefully placing his feet where he would not trip or break part of the carving. The map was fashioned to the precise physical aspects of Alagaesia, complete with hills, mountains, rivers, and forests. Ren pointed with the toes of his boot to where the Varden line was advancing, and Galbatorix muttered a quick spell to color the area blue, showing the Varden forces. The Imperial forts and strongholds also shone red, while to the north, the Elven forces became green. Ren nodded to his Emperor in thanks, and continued.

"The Varden advances slowly, but surely. With every victory they march closer and closer to the Capital. They took Feinster earlier this month and left it heavily guarded, but the supply routes to and from the city remain open to attack. A planned blockade could leave the city without supplies as long as the force holds. I advise we take the 21st Legion and march for Feinster immediately." The Grand General looked to the Emperor for approval, but Galbatorix took not of the holes in this plan.

"What of the coast? Feinster can easily call for aid from Surdan ports. And what of the river?" Galbatorix pointed. No sooner had he finished than the lesser general, General Dain, opened his mouth with a potential answer.

"Surda lacks a serious fleet, your majesty, any seaward support could be easily blocked. As for the river, Belatona is already in the process of slowing all trade down the river, but there are small towns who needs certain shipments. We could set up another blockade, here, on the river." Dain pointed, not daring to get up on the table as well. Galbatorix nodded, looking to his Financial Adviser.

"The treasury is small, I advise that your majesty raises the taxes to cover these costs." Galbatorix sighed, rubbing his head. He would soon have a riot on his hands if the costs kept increasing.

"Fine, raise them! But how will we keep the Varden from merely harvesting from the land surrounding Feinster?" He asked, frustrated after talking about these matter for so long. The room fell silent, the Grand General out of ideas as well as the lesser general. The four southern Great Lords kept their mouths shut, fearful of the Emperor's temper. Galbatorix growled and rubbed his forehead again.

"Where's Murtagh when you need him," Galbatorix muttered. The younger man had a knack for coming up with the most unusual plans. Shruikan had been listening in on the whole debate, still speeding along the wind current like before. He fought to think like Murtagh would, eager to help his Rider.

"_If you get our people out of there, I can burn the fields on my way down. It will leave the the Varden forces without food on their way up. Winter is coming anyways, the harvest is as ready as it'll ever be," _Shruikan offered, thinking his plan was a good one.

Galbatorix's head shot up and he grinned at the idea, relaying it out loud for the Southern Great Lords to hear. They scowled, not liking the idea of missing out on the harvest taxes, even if it was for just a year. "Nonsense, the peasants will havetwo days to harvest as much as they can carry amongst their numbers and begin the journey. Spread the word, Shruikan will burn his way south. Bring your harvests in early, clean out your pantries, abandon your cities, and bring your people north, or they will be lost to his great flame." Galbatorix stood, asserting his authority. "The Varden will get no food from us from this day forth."

They weren't excessively happy with the idea, but Galbatorix left no room for argument. They would just have to deal with it, and be happy he didn't burn down their various manors as well. Dismissing them from the room, he waved them out, vowing to himself to pacify them later when the war was won. "_Shruikan, begin burning when you pass Melian and don't stop until the ground is barren all the way to the Surdan border. Only then continue east and capture Eragon and Saphira. You'll have to do it alone, Murtagh and Thorn are needed in the North."_

Galbatorix and Shruikan said goodbye, and they closed the link. Galbatorix hurried after the Great Lords and helped them teleport home in seconds with a complex spell, silently forming a plan for the Elven front while he bid them goodbye. Once they were gone, he called for Grand General Ren, "Ren, old friend, have the spellcasters call the three northern Great Lords in for a meeting about the Northern front as well, we've got more business to attend to. Have them establish a connection with Murtagh as well, he will need to hear all this."

Galbatorix gave Ren his order and let him continue on his way, heading down to the kitchen for a break and a hearty lunch, his stomach grumbling for sustenance. He smile to himself grimly, "All in a days work."

* * *

This chapter delves into what's going on at Uru Baen with Galbatorix more than anything, but it also closed up Captains Brenden's letter to the Emperor, and the significance of Brenden as well. I hope it wasn't too boring, I didn't want to write another chapter with Saphira and Eragon flying around again when that's all the last chapter was.

SO, now you know their plans for the Varden, now I just have to think up something cool for the North as well ;) This one is short, but oh well, update will start happening once a week instead for now xD I suck at writing resolutions.

**Till next time!**


	29. Why the Hell Did You Run

Eragon and Saphira were making their way east, flying along the borders of the Beor Mountains. They moved as fast as the desert wind allowed, but were slowed by the heat as well. "_If only we could sleep through the day and fly at night, it would be much cooler," _Eragon reasoned, looking to the setting sun for the third time. The air grew progressively chilly as the golden light gave way to a purple haze. Saphira's eyes grew fuzzy with the twilight, making her squint and give thanks they weren't flying through a forest or something similar.

"_You know why we can't, little one, we would be caught unaware should anyone spot us sleeping on the ground during the day," _Saphira reminded him, fighting to remain realistic. She knew their odds of being spotted were dropping with every passing day, but the mountains made her nervous. She could not see any strangers lurking in the trees. They could have already been spotted and not noticed it. The dwarves could have already sent word to the Varden, and in turn the elves. The Elves was who they had to really worry about, they were the only ones that had the speed to catch them.

"_What about Thorn and Murtagh?" _Saphira scoffed, confident in her abilities to out fly the younger dragon. She shook Eragon a bit, unhappy that Eragon did not share this confidence.

"_I was flying before he was even hatched, and I can out fly him now. We need not worry about Thorn, nor his rider," _She asserted to her rider. He let the matter go, but something still bugged him about it. She could fly faster than Thorn, sure, but could she win against the King's dragon himself, Shruikan? He hated to admit it, but he doubted it.

"_Just land Saphira, it's time we rest," _Eragon murmured. Saphira shrugged and began to descend, flying lower and lower until she set herself on the ground. Eragon unstrapped his legs and jumped down, wobbling at bit before steadying himself. They had beat their old record of three days straight in the saddle with four.

Eragon felt terrible; his eyes were crusted over and his face was burning, the skin raw from the constant hellishly hot winds. His limbs ached and his shoulders sagged, he wasn't tired, just sore. Sore all over. To make matters even worse, his groin was sore just as much as the rest of him. He walked funny, bearing the pain like a trooper as he unpacked his supper from the saddle and loosened the saddle from Saphira's back. They couldn't chance taking it off all the way, but he loosened it as much as he could before he risked it falling off in flight should they have to rush into flight during the night. Any adjustments he needed to make after they were free of danger could be done while flying, they had practiced.

He was in the process of taking his boots off with an apple in his mouth, a rather un-heroic moment, when Saphira lifted her head from her sleeping position and stared into the underbrush. She squinted, raising her upper lip threateningly and signaled Eragon to put his boots back on. _Eragon, there is someone over there. She has frozen in fear, but I heard her boots scrape on the rocks. _Eragon immediately sprang to his feet, narrowing his eyes and calling a bit of magic to give him better sight. Though he didn't see anything, he heard her breathing with Saphira's ears.

He had only taken a few steps in her direction when she took off like a rabbit, scrambling up the mountain side. He sprinted after her, apple long forgotten on the ground. His worsts fears was that it was a young elf ready to tell the Varden of his whereabouts, and this fear pushed him on faster than he thought possible. His half-elven agility let him jump from rock to rock after her, and as he watched her run, the fear that she was an elf vanished to the back of his mind. Though she knew how to maneuver herself over the rocks, she was no elf.

She was far too short as well, all the elves he had seen were tall, taller than him even, and he was proud of his above average height. She couldn't have been more the five and a half feet tall. _Do not underestimate her because of it, she could be baiting you somewhere, _Saphira called to him, circling them over head to try and get a visual on the oncoming terrain. _Keep herding her in that direction, there is a gully up ahead that she will not be able to cross, _Saphira informed him. Eragon nodded through she could not see this. With another burst of speed he crashed through the underbrush and saw her three feet away. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized he would not stop in time, and slammed into her. They tumbled over the edge and into the small ravine, both cursing and grunting the whole way down.

When they came to a stop at the bottom, they panted heavily in unison for a moment. It only took Eragon a few seconds to regain his bearings and remember where he was and what was happening. With a growl, he rolled over and pinned her into the dirt, catching her wrists in one hand and forcing them above her head while planting her hips down by sitting on her. He glared down at her, but couldn't fight the surprise on his face. _I, I caught her... _He told Saphira, who hovered above, watching their movements.

_Good, hold her there so I may land, _Saphira answered, but Eragon barely heard her. He continued to stare down at this, this non elfish woman who looked elfish but was not, with sandy blonde hair and eyes as brown as his. He shook himself out of his surprise, and tightened his hold with renewed vigor, "Why the hell did you run?" He barked, trying to sound more angry than astonished.

"Why the hell did you chase me?" She snarled back, fighting his hold. She kneed him in the back and slammed her forehead to his nose, forgetting how much the move dazed her, "ow." Meanwhile, Eragon swore and ducked his head, fighting the urge to let go of her arms and hold his face. Instead he glared down at her, blood running from his broken nose down his chin and into his mouth. He spit, his mouth now all bloodied and red, giving him a devilish look.

_She does have a point, why did you run after her? I thought we were going to just pack up and leave, _Saphira added to their silent conversation, wondering herself. She didn't want to search his mind, so she just waiting for him to answer. Eragon sighed at her, resisting the urge to facepalm.

_I chased her because no one can know we were here, _he growled, growing irritated with all the pain. His face ached just like the rest of him, and that did not make him happy. "I chased you because you saw us, and I can't let you run off and tell everyone." He stood and hauled her up with him, barking out a spell that bound her hands behind her back. "Do not run again, or I will knock you out," he threatened, but the minute he held her with one hand instead of two she bolted. He swore at her and grabbed her again, this time casting another spell that lulled her to sleep slowly over the next few minutes. She fell quiet immediately, growing limp in his grip.

He struggled to drag her up the side of the ravine, exhausted when he finally reached the top. He panted, his body reminding him how much it hurt and his nose beginning to drip again. Saphira craned her neck down and smelt the stranger, curious about her. _She smells almost like.. Orik... _Eragon gave his dragon a funny look.

_Dwarf? She doesn't look it at all, _he added, looking the woman up and down. He didn't mean to leer, even though his face flushed anyways, he was just curious as well. _She is pretty, I'll give her that. _Saphira nodded in agreement, choosing not to taunt him about it. It wasn't as if it wasn't the truth.

_But what are we going to do with her? _It was the question that hun over both their head. They couldn't just leave her here, after that fiasco she'd never forget about their encounter, and who knows who she would tell and who would learn of their whereabouts because of it.

_Take her with us I suppose, drop her off some place else or something._

_She may die with us anyways, _Saphira admitted, knowing even Eragon's body was straining to remain healthy. Not to mention she would not have her own rider sacrificing food for any stranger, even if his manners dictate it should be so as she is a woman.

_Saphira! _Eragon yelped, surprised at her blunt state. He didn't want to think of anyone dying, least of all that first person who didn't automatically want to capture or kill him he had seen in weeks. _It's settled, she'll ride with us, for the moment at least. _Saphira nodded her consent and Eragon moved so she could pick up the woman in her paw and fly her down to their camp for the night. In the morning they would be off again, and Eragon was secretly excited to finally have someone new to talk to during their travels.

* * *

So now you've officially met a new character! :'D her name will be revealed next chapter following these guys (don't know when that will be) but yeah, I'm making great progress with the plot for this. It's shaping up to be a really long story (48 page long doc so far!) but not a lot has happened. I'm not good at writing long chapters Dx ugh, I'm sorry guys.

Next update: 2/27/2012 - Next Monday :) See you then!


	30. Who Do You Serve

Eragon and Saphira were making their way east, flying along the borders of the Beor Mountains. They moved as fast as the desert wind allowed, but were slowed by the heat as well. "_If only we could sleep through the day and fly at night, it would be much cooler," _Eragon reasoned, looking to the setting sun for the third time. The air grew progressively chilly as the golden light gave way to a purple haze. Saphira's eyes grew fuzzy with the twilight, making her squint and give thanks they weren't flying through a forest or something similar.

"_You know why we can't, little one, we would be caught unaware should anyone spot us sleeping on the ground during the day," _Saphira reminded him, fighting to remain realistic. She knew their odds of being spotted were dropping with every passing day, but the mountains made her nervous. She could not see any strangers lurking in the trees. They could have already been spotted and not noticed it. The dwarves could have already sent word to the Varden, and in turn the elves. The Elves was who they had to really worry about, they were the only ones that had the speed to catch them.

"_What about Thorn and Murtagh?" _Saphira scoffed, confident in her abilities to out fly the younger dragon. She shook Eragon a bit, unhappy that Eragon did not share this confidence.

"_I was flying before he was even hatched, and I can out fly him now. We need not worry about Thorn, nor his rider," _She asserted to her rider. He let the matter go, but something still bugged him about it. She could fly faster than Thorn, sure, but could she win against the King's dragon himself, Shruikan? He hated to admit it, but he doubted it.

"_Just land Saphira, it's time we rest," _Eragon murmured. Saphira shrugged and began to descend, flying lower and lower until she set herself on the ground. Eragon unstrapped his legs and jumped down, wobbling at bit before steadying himself. They had beat their old record of three days straight in the saddle with four.

Eragon felt terrible; his eyes were crusted over and his face was burning, the skin raw from the constant hellishly hot winds. His limbs ached and his shoulders sagged, he wasn't tired, just sore. Sore all over. To make matters even worse, his groin was sore just as much as the rest of him. He walked funny, bearing the pain like a trooper as he unpacked his supper from the saddle and loosened the saddle from Saphira's back. They couldn't chance taking it off all the way, but he loosened it as much as he could before he risked it falling off in flight should they have to rush into flight during the night. Any adjustments he needed to make after they were free of danger could be done while flying, they had practiced.

He was in the process of taking his boots off with an apple in his mouth, a rather un-heroic moment, when Saphira lifted her head from her sleeping position and stared into the underbrush. She squinted, raising her upper lip threateningly and signaled Eragon to put his boots back on. _Eragon, there is someone over there. She has frozen in fear, but I heard her boots scrape on the rocks. _Eragon immediately sprang to his feet, narrowing his eyes and calling a bit of magic to give him better sight. Though he didn't see anything, he heard her breathing with Saphira's ears.

He had only taken a few steps in her direction when she took off like a rabbit, scrambling up the mountain side. He sprinted after her, apple long forgotten on the ground. His worsts fears was that it was a young elf ready to tell the Varden of his whereabouts, and this fear pushed him on faster than he thought possible. His half-elven agility let him jump from rock to rock after her, and as he watched her run, the fear that she was an elf vanished to the back of his mind. Though she knew how to maneuver herself over the rocks, she was no elf.

She was far too short as well, all the elves he had seen were tall, taller than him even, and he was proud of his above average height. She couldn't have been more the five and a half feet tall. _Do not underestimate her because of it, she could be baiting you somewhere, _Saphira called to him, circling them over head to try and get a visual on the oncoming terrain. _Keep herding her in that direction, there is a gully up ahead that she will not be able to cross, _Saphira informed him. Eragon nodded through she could not see this. With another burst of speed he crashed through the underbrush and saw her three feet away. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized he would not stop in time, and slammed into her. They tumbled over the edge and into the small ravine, both cursing and grunting the whole way down.

When they came to a stop at the bottom, they panted heavily in unison for a moment. It only took Eragon a few seconds to regain his bearings and remember where he was and what was happening. With a growl, he rolled over and pinned her into the dirt, catching her wrists in one hand and forcing them above her head while planting her hips down by sitting on her. He glared down at her, but couldn't fight the surprise on his face. _I, I caught her... _He told Saphira, who hovered above, watching their movements.

_Good, hold her there so I may land, _Saphira answered, but Eragon barely heard her. He continued to stare down at this, this non elfish woman who looked elfish but was not, with sandy blonde hair and eyes as brown as his. He shook himself out of his surprise, and tightened his hold with renewed vigor, "Why the hell did you run?" He barked, trying to sound more angry than astonished.

"Why the hell did you chase me?" She snarled back, fighting his hold. She kneed him in the back and slammed her forehead to his nose, forgetting how much the move dazed her, "ow." Meanwhile, Eragon swore and ducked his head, fighting the urge to let go of her arms and hold his face. Instead he glared down at her, blood running from his broken nose down his chin and into his mouth. He spit, his mouth now all bloodied and red, giving him a devilish look.

_She does have a point, why did you run after her? I thought we were going to just pack up and leave, _Saphira added to their silent conversation, wondering herself. She didn't want to search his mind, so she just waiting for him to answer. Eragon sighed at her, resisting the urge to facepalm.

_I chased her because no one can know we were here, _he growled, growing irritated with all the pain. His face ached just like the rest of him, and that did not make him happy. "I chased you because you saw us, and I can't let you run off and tell everyone." He stood and hauled her up with him, barking out a spell that bound her hands behind her back. "Do not run again, or I will knock you out," he threatened, but the minute he held her with one hand instead of two she bolted. He swore at her and grabbed her again, this time casting another spell that lulled her to sleep slowly over the next few minutes. She fell quiet immediately, growing limp in his grip.

He struggled to drag her up the side of the ravine, exhausted when he finally reached the top. He panted, his body reminding him how much it hurt and his nose beginning to drip again. Saphira craned her neck down and smelt the stranger, curious about her. _She smells almost like.. Orik... _Eragon gave his dragon a funny look.

_Dwarf? She doesn't look it at all, _he added, looking the woman up and down. He didn't mean to leer, even though his face flushed anyways, he was just curious as well. _She is pretty, I'll give her that. _Saphira nodded in agreement, choosing not to taunt him about it. It wasn't as if it wasn't the truth.

_But what are we going to do with her? _It was the question that hun over both their head. They couldn't just leave her here, after that fiasco she'd never forget about their encounter, and who knows who she would tell and who would learn of their whereabouts because of it.

_Take her with us I suppose, drop her off some place else or something._

_She may die with us anyways, _Saphira admitted, knowing even Eragon's body was straining to remain healthy. Not to mention she would not have her own rider sacrificing food for any stranger, even if his manners dictate it should be so as she is a woman.

_Saphira! _Eragon yelped, surprised at her blunt state. He didn't want to think of anyone dying, least of all that first person who didn't automatically want to capture or kill him he had seen in weeks. _It's settled, she'll ride with us, for the moment at least. _Saphira nodded her consent and Eragon moved so she could pick up the woman in her paw and fly her down to their camp for the night. In the morning they would be off again, and Eragon was secretly excited to finally have someone new to talk to during their travels.

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So now you've officially met a new character! :'D her name will be revealed next chapter following these guys (don't know when that will be) but yeah, I'm making great progress with the plot for this. It's shaping up to be a really long story (48 page long doc so far!) but not a lot has happened. I'm not good at writing long chapters Dx ugh, I'm sorry guys.

Next update: 2/27/2012 - Next Monday :) See you then!


	31. Early Harvest

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

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Shruikan soared higher, closing his mouth and regaining his breath in preparation for another go at burning the field below him. In the distance, he spotted the hundreds of people from the city of Melian that had arrived to help the farmers with the early harvest._For all the evil their kind can produce, there seems to be hope for them yet¸ _Shruikan mused, watching the kind souls carry overflowing baskets and lead oxen pulling carts stocked high with nearly ripe produce. It was a good thing it was so close to the normal harvest time, or all their crops would spoil, un-ripened.

Shruikan had flown to Melian days before and explain the circumstances. At least the Earl of Melian had meekly refused, reasoning they had no place to store it all so soon. But no one dared disobey the King's dragon for long, and they eventually agreed upon a system.

Shruikan would fly out and alert the farmers that the harvest needed to start early for the safety of their crops and themselves, and the city would send out volunteers to gather as much from the field as possible. It was a great feat of team work for the city as a whole.

The city was also emptying out old stock houses and abandoned barns to make room for all the premature food. Shruikan also made sure there was a system set up to help the farmers get their fair share of profits from the food, but he sensed that part might turn out badly. _Never underestimate the greed of humans, rich or poor, _Shruikan had warned Thorn once. He hoped the fledgling took that advice to heart, yet he doubted it.

As his mind wandered back to Thorn, he grew sad. He missed the mellow young dragon more than he would ever admit; after a hundred years of waiting for one of the eggs to hatch, and then Saphira's egg being stolen from his chamber in the night, Shruikan grew desperate to keep the eggs safe. He guarded them personally, and when he caught the thief in the act, he nearly shattered the blue egg in his attempt to get it back. In the end, he let the cloaked figure go with it to save it from shattering. It was selfish of him to think so, and his mindset would change completely once more eggs hatched, but he wished the green egg had been stolen instead of the blue.

_If I had just gotten the chance to raise her right, without that idiot boy and his foolish allies to influence her! _Shruikan roared his frustration and swung himself around for another go at the fields below. When he reared up in the air to turn and try again, he spotted something in the distance. Stopping short, he narrowed his eyes and focused, trying to see better. He flew forward, inching closer to whatever it was, before he snarled and twisted in the air, speeding back to the city of Melian.

Ignoring the peasants flocking into the lower levels of the city, the hundreds of farmers herding their livestock into small barns, and the fidgety soldiers on the city wall all the same, Shruikan let loose a mighty bellow as he landed on one of the city's inner walls. He screamed again for the attention of the city, noticing the Earl scrambling out of one of his buildings and waving his arms, trying to ask what all the commotion was about. Instead of answering him solely, Shruikan projected his mind into all the citizens and soldiers alike, broadcasting on a colossal scale.

_People of Melian, the Varden force approaches your walls, ready to pillage and burn everything you live for! They have already forced you from your fields; will you let them take your homes away as well? _His voice echoed into every soul within in the great stone walls, bouncing from conscience to conscience, and all at once the minds of Melian were unified by his voice alone. He didn't care what their answer was, but he felt an overwhelming sense of rebellion from the city as a whole, and that was good enough for him. He cried, a terrifying sound that shook the dust off of the shelves and made the city rumble.

He saw a large crowd gathering throughout the levels. The people he was to protect were all watching him in awe. He was their ally. He needed them to know that, remember that, and have faith in his abilities. _Melian, I am with you! The King himself has heard your cries, and I have come! Together, the Varden will not harm you, burn your homes, or take away everything you have worked for! _He flared his wings, sensing another surge of power through the minds of Melian, and shared his own back with them. _Melian, prepare for battle!_

He roared one last time, and this time, the city screamed with him. The sound gave him chills, and he flapped his wings, the air booming with every wing stroke. With this, he watched the whole city come to life. Officers assembled their troops; families began to gather everything they could carry and stream into the higher levels of the city. Men parted with their wives and children and headed for the outer wall. Armories were stocking up on swords and shields, bows and arrows. Archers, a force of young hunters and trained bowmen, assembled in every nook and cranny they could find. Shruikan looked out past the city boundaries again, where the Varden force was accumulating on the horizon. He glanced up at the sun and growled, turning towards the Earl of the city. _They will be here by nightfall, _he stated calmly. _It looks like men will be sleeping in their armor tonight, _Shruikan thought bitterly.

He craned his neck and focused on the horizon, knowing the forest was blocking his view and would most likely house the Varden's army. He knew he couldn't burn it down like the rest of the area, the trees that grew there were older than he, but he disliked beingunable to see what they were doing. That and the wood they gathered would keep them warm. He didn't like the Varden being comfortable, the idea made him angry. But as much as he oh so dearly wanted to burn it all to the ground, he could not.

Pushing his mind to other matters, he thought back to the blue dragoness and her rider. The end of his tail twitched in excitement at the idea of finally meeting them. _Such a shame it is to be on the battle field, I shall try to go easy on the two. _He wished Galbatorix was with him though; having a rider to deal with that Eragon boy would have made his job that much easier. The only thing he was worried about was those two working as a pair and bringing him down out of sheer luck. He did not fret over her flying skills, nor was he scared of her rider's blade, yet a rider and dragon were a duo not to be underestimated, no matter how young. _Boy, the elves got that part right when they screwed the rest of us over, no wonder the wild dragons left._

Turning, he swooped down to where the Earl and his officers, watching them scurry around, making arrangements for the upcoming battle. Shruikan landed as lightly as he could on one of the lower walls and listened in, remaining quiet as they worked everything out. It was not his job to plan battles, merely to fight them. If put in the planning position he politely declined. He was good at thinking outside the box but not at turning those unusual ideas into all out plans; he left that part of the battle to Galbatorix the majority of the time.

_What of the trebuchets? _Shruikan questioned, raising his eyes to rest his gaze on the scary devices. He had witnessed many dragons fall from those, they catapulted rocks into the sky that were hard to evade if caught off guard. The Earl looked up to them also, mild surprise rising to his face as if he had forgotten they were there at all. _We can use those, correct? _Shruikan assumed they would be employed in the oncoming battle, especially when the Varden's only dragon was going to be preoccupied with him. They would be a great advantage, Shruikan thought before looking to the horizon again. He noted the Varden had stopped moving, presumably encamped just in front of the giant woods. He growled, eager to go scout their camp.

He left Melian in a rush, hoping to get to the Varden before their spell casters could hide anything they might be working on that he didn't know about. It only took him a few minutes before he was soaring above their camp, watching the tiny ants scurry in a panic on the ground below. He roared, spewing a bit of fire for good measure as well, but he did not hit any of their tents or their soldiers. He was a dragon of honor, and he knew how much Galbatorix would hate it if a rogue dragon lit their camps aflame when they were on a march, so he let them be. He did, however, take note of the giant towers they were building with the wood from the forest. Growing excited and feeling invincible, he broadcasted his booming voice down at them and flew lower, hoping to terrify them all. _So the Varden seeks to take Melian! Ha! I will burn your forces to the ground, Nasuada, of that I promise you!_

Receiving no answer, Shruikan flew back to Melian, immediately establishing a connection with Galbatorix as he went. _I will hold this front for a while, Galbatorix, and I will contact you should I need anything from you. _He received a simple confirmation from his rider, and figuring Galbatorix was busy with the Northern front, Shruikan thought nothing of it. He swooped above the city of Melian for a few minutes, long enough to tell the Earl was heading west to finish burning the fields around the Jiet River and then he would return before sunset in three hours. Though the Earl didn't like the idea of losing their greatest asset, he had little sway over the matter. Again Shruikan was off, ignoring the ache in his muscles and speeding his way west. He hoped the battle would begin in the morning, as that would mean he would get some rest when he got back, along with Melian's soldiers. A calm before the storm, per say. The only problem with that was the Varden's forces would be able to rest as well, and that idea did not sit well with Shruikan.

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"Lady Nasuada, a message from the front," a guard called, waiting to escort her to her tent. Nasuada said goodbye to the soldiers she had been talking to and thanked them for their time, immediately falling alongside the officer.

"Who is it from?" She questioned, eager to know more. She tore off her leather gloves and rubbed her eyes, her pace slowing as she yawned. It was past sunset and she was eager to get to bed very soon.

"We do not know, the guards around your tent heard a voice coming from inside and checked it out. A woman was casting a spell so you can see her face in your mirror. She said she was one of your magicians and needed to speak with you urgently." The officer told her all he knew about the situation, and he looked completely at ease with the idea of a talking mirror. He had seen this type of witchcraft before, but the others have not.

"Very well, you are dismissed," she commanded, entering her tent and walked towards her mirror straight away. She wasn't happy about having to live in a tent like the rest of the Varden, she was the future Queen of Alagaesia after all, but King Orrin said it would be good for her army's morale. They needed to see that she supported them, and was with them one hundred percent. Of course she argued that they could see this regardless of where she stayed, in a tent or in his castle, but he insisted. So she begrudgingly accepted the terms and lived out in the fields with her soldiers, with a measly two room tent and a poor excuse for a tub. She grumbled, heading towards the wash room to see just who this spell caster of hers was and what the reason for the call might be. "Speak, and you shall be heard." She directed, waiting for the person on her mirror to notice her.

"Ah, my Queen, I bring news from the front. We near Melian, and plan to strike on the morrow, but we have met some unforeseen complications," Nasuada nodded her greetings to Trianna, a spell caster who led the Du Vangr Gata and served the Varden on her own terms. Nasuada didn't necessarily like Trianna, and the magician knew this, but they had stayed on good terms with one another for the sake of the war. Nasuada needed the Du Vangr Gata, and Trianna understood this, but they needed the Varden for food and payment. "Shruikan has been spotted flying about Melian, and he flew above our encampment a few moments ago, no doubt to discourage us and assess our forces. My spell casters can handle him, should he be without his rider, but we've hit a food shortage."

"That's impossible; the fields around Melian are stocked with an almost ready harvest. Set out parties to gather food in shifts, problem solved," Nasuada ordered and thinking the matter was done with, started to move on to other matters. "Now about Shruikan, has he-"

"No milady, I don't think you understand. The fields are wrecked, there is no food for miles, and everything is burned. I believe this is why Shruikan is this far south in the first place." Nasuada's jaw dropped, her firm composure lost as she heard the news. She couldn't believe it; Melian had given up its harvest just so her army would starve.

"Why do the Gods torture me so," Nasuada cried, and walked out of the room to where he bed sat. She fell upon it and slammed her fists into the mattress, screaming into the soft comforter. Unknown to her, Trianna was watching, unimpressed. The spell caster raised one eyebrow, questioning the capabilities of her leader, before speaking once again.

"Oh just send us a shipment of the supplies we need," then she cut the link. Nasuada remained on her bed, she had barely heard what Trianna had said, but she knew it was the right thing to do. The troops needed a shipment of food, and god knows what else. She got up and wiped her eyes, sniveling, and went to her desk to begin writing a letter to King Orrin about the supplies the front near Melian needed. She trusted him to get his task done, and sent the letter away with a message riding to the capital, where Orrin ruled his country from his castle.

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**The previous chapter was the last one about Saphira and Eragon (and Rhonny) in a while guys, sorry.**

I have to focus on the Empire side of things and clear things up. I don't have much planned out in detail for those three.

**BUT** once I get all these Empire dealings-with other and done, the Saphira and her eggs part of the plot will continue. I've got some ideas, but I serious need to get some Shruikan/ Galby stuff out of the way!

I'll be doing this a lot, I think, plopping in important dealings with other characters that I don't feel the need to write a whole chapter about, like Nasuada in this one and a few before. Probably King Orrin and Roran as well, and Orik too. Their happenings are important, but very, very boring dx I don't like writing them too much, SO I won't! Haha.

**Next Update: 3/1/12** Next Thursday!


	32. Shielded

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

**So, have you guys just like, stopped reading?** Is this story becoming so long new readers are hesitant to start it? I don't understand why my usual views have plummeted, especially since I'm now updating twice a week... is there anything you guys can tell me that might explain this decline? I've notice no reviews as well, which makes me sad, but I understand lack of time, or being unable to say something and whatever, it's the views that's really bugging me.

So I just wanted to tell all you reading that I appreciate every time one of you clicks on the story and gives my tale a chance :) Btw, **I'm looking for a possible new beta Reader**, if anyone is interested. I don't ask for much, just that you read through and say when words don't sound right or get rid of repeated words. Grammar as well, but only slightly. I have/had a Beta, but she isn't answering my PM's or opening my DocXs. *shrugs* **Anyone?**

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Galbatoriz fell to his knees as he, Murtagh, and Thorn landed in the field some 200 feet away from where the Northern Imperial front was stationed. He had drained most of his energy to cast a transportation spell to get them there, calling on Shruikan's energy as well, but the ordeal had still exhausted him. He turned his head and whispered something into the trees, pulling the energy from the forest, and from the sun itself. He knelt there, shaking, for a few minutes more, before he tilted his head up to Murtagh, who stood beside him awkwardly, and ordered him away.

Muttering beneath his breath after the younger rider was far enough away not to hear, he broadcasted his voice into a large room in the castle back in Uru Baen. _Friends, I need your power, _he whispered to the room full of Elundari, and felt the energy surged through him, grateful to have earned their trust long ago. _I owe you my thanks, perhaps this endeavor shall not be a waste of your energy like the last. _He half prayed to whatever gods may be watching down on him, and stood, rolling his shoulders. Though he didn't like borrowing energy from the dragons of old, he was not against it. They were the ones that pushed him to be rid of the elves once and for all, so it made sense for them to _fund_ the expedition.

Rising to his full height, Galbatorix marched forward with a look of determination on his face. He was sick of these knife eared bastards invading his land and expecting no rebuff. He had consulted his generals on what to do with the rebellious race that kept taunting them in the north, and they convinced him to make a full frontal attack. He had considered burning the fields around here as well, but the cities were too far and few in between to house and feed his army and his empire could not miss out on 100 percent of the harvest in the north and south in the same year. It would have drained his society tenfold then the war as a whole had. So in the end he just left the fields be and settled for leading the attack himself. It had been a while since he had escaped the confined of the royal castle, and he was eager to get the war moving in his favor.

He had reinforced Furnost and Belatona before heading north, and had surveyed the progress on the blockades as well. Now he just had to keep any new Surdan supplies from reaching the Varden force that neared Melian. He counted on Shruikan heavily for that task, and his dragon had accepted without hesitation. Galbatorix grinned, knowing he was lucky to have such willing helpers. His eyes swung up to where Murtagh and Thorn flew in the sky, most likely double checking that Thorn's armor was working properly and didn't bother him as they maneuvered. He prayed the two made it through the upcoming battles; the idea of them dying unsettled him deeply. He thought back to what Shruikan had said to him as he flew south late one night and Galbatorix lay in bed, restless and nowhere near to sleep. _I trust you to keep him safe, rider. If you do not, nothing shall stop me from burning their whole forest to the ground. _Galbatorix knew his dragon had meant it, and something in his voice scared Glabatorix. He shivered just thinking about it, but did not dwell on it as he neared the camps borders. He saw men bow their heads and nodded to them, but he did not tolerate kneeling. They had a job to do; if the men had time to kneel they were obviously not working hard enough, and that was that.

Making his way towards the center of the camp, he entered the largest tent he could find, assuming that was where his generals had stationed their headquarters. He was right, unsurprisingly, gathered around a table in the middle of the tent stood the four officers that he appointed to keep his army in good condition and to win his battles. He paid them good money for it, but he selected them because he felt a mutual trust between them, and reasoned there would be no uncontrollable fights between any two of them.

Whipping himself to attention, a younger officer who sat off to side in wait finally noticed him and scrambled to look busy. This made Galbatorix grin, but it also disappointed him. _The boy must be one of their sons, _he mused, _or else he wouldn't be able to get away with slacking off so close to battle. _Galbatorix merely had to clear his throat and wait, it only took a few seconds for the whole room to focus on him and fall completely silent. Motioning to the young officer who had been sitting in a chair lazily moments before, Galbatorix joked, "I hope the rest of my army is using their free time wiser than he. We do have a battle to prepare for." At that, he saw one of the generals give the boy a sour look, and the rider knew whose son it was. He laughed at his own joke and a few nervous chuckles joined him.

He walked to where his four generals stood, ready to fill him in, and listened intently as they described the plan. "The elven army holds Gilead." One said, pointing to the city's position on the map in front of them. "Their central base seems to be routed through there. They must have some sort of system through the city itself; if we shut that down, it will disorient the front as a whole." Glabatorix nodded, wondering if he could block all communication attempts with magic should they retake the city, or if it would be too much for him to handle. He knew how the elves sent each other messages through mirrors, and he knew they had taught Varden spell casters to do the same, which was a pain in the neck for him to deal with.

"If we do manage to take the city, and that ordeal doesn't seem to be in our favor, the elves will have nowhere to go. Assuming they form a force in front of the main gates instead of just hiding behind their walls, we should be able to best them if we send in the newest conscripts first to tire them out."

Another general stopped him. "No no, if their army guards the front gate, then we surround the trained Imperial army with the drafted. If we fake an opening, the elves will surely run to take advantage and they will fall to the expert swords."

Galbatorix was trying to consider each of their ideas with an equally impartial view, but his mind kept going back to the Elves not escaping, _how had they gotten to Gilead in the first place? Surely they had not run around Isenstar. _But before he could finish his train of thought, the fourth general took over.

"But the elves favor one on one combat, a loose melee where they can dance; it is what their long, thin swords are made for. And they are very, very good at it. We are not, our troops have short, thick swords and shields, and they are too slow moving compared to the elven race to keep up. If we form a front with every man shield to shield and with the second line striking blows from behind through the small spaces in between, the elves will be forced to jump over. They men behind these rows could slaughter the elves before they even landed on their feet."

"Only problem with that is all our shields are built round, with plenty of space to strike through if we try what you're suggesting."

Galbatorix's eyes sparked and he interrupted the planning to bark at the nearest guard. "Bring me a shield, now!" The man rushed off, and Galbatorix saw the four generals questioning him with puzzled looks. He was known for being spontaneous, but they assumed he would trust them when they said the shields were truly round.

"You'll see," he assured just as the guard came rushing back into the tent holding the shield he requested, out of breath as he had sprinted to the nearest soldier and taken his shield, hoping not to anger the Emperor by taking so long. "Thank you," Galbatorix said, before turning and slamming the shield down on the table in front of him. He grinned at it, not believing he hadn't thought of this sooner, and raised his arm. "Moi du skölir!" He commanded in the ancient language, and watched the wood bend to his will. He motioned to his creation for the four to see, quite proud of himself as they general studied the square shield he had formed.

"Could you do this to all of the shields, milord?" One asked, and Galbatorix thought for a moment. He then knew it wouldn't require him alone, the spell was simple enough to set all the Imperial spell casters to the task, and he said this. The generals looked thrilled, and Galbatorix sent out to the order to every able bodied magic user to sweep through the rows of tents to perform the spell on every shield they could find. He knew they would miss some, but he was confident they'd have time to complete their work.

"Good good," they muttered in unison, and resumed the battle planning, it was rather last minute planning, truthfully, but that's what Galbatorix was good at. He continued to listen to their ideas until they reached a conclusion and went to him for approval. He nodded his head, and stood, quite stiff from stand hunched over that table for so long. He left them, still arguing about how many men to use and where, but he trusted them to solve those problem on their own; he was there merely to give them permission for the major things. _Military planning never was my strong suit, anyways, _Galbatorix grinned, exiting the tent and making his way through the smoldering fires and small tents to where he knew Murtagh and Thorn rested.

He sat down next to the sleepy young rider and explained to him the plans for the next day, wanting him to be far better informed than his average soldier. "Now remember, if, and only if, Saphira and Eragon do not show, or any other unknown dragon for that matter, take Thorn to the other side of the city and look for any boats the elves might have sailed across Isenstar with. If you are otherwise preoccupied, tell me, and I will do it myself. Understood?" Murtagh nodded, no longer drowsy, and Thorn puffed a bit of smoke to signal he would follow the given directions.

Galbatorix smiled and moved his gaze up to the sky. It was a lovely day, far too lovely to spread bloodshed on, but he hoped the good weather would last until the battle was over. In rain an army's morale fell considerably, and he couldn't have his troops loosing spirit in the face of such an advanced enemy.

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So I'm giving this one to you guys on schedule but I'm going to post the next chapter ASAP, regardless of if I get it finished before the deadline, I want the battle of Gilead to be over and done xD It's a monumental challenge as I'm not used to writing battle scenes, but I love it. It gives me chills, and I hope it does the same for you. The LotR background music helps a bit as well :D haha

Tell me what you think: Is Galbatorix a reasonable character so far? I'm trying not to be make him too nice and goody Dx that would be too unbelievable. But he isn't evil in my mind, so yeah...

**Next Update: 3/5/12** Next Monday!


	33. Authors Note

Caddaren here,

I suppose I ought to tell you all what's really going on with this story. It seems that as I've been working out the plot and flushing out upcoming chapters, some of you have lost interest, which is disheartening. Some of you may think this story has trailed too far away from the original plot, and it has, but that's the point. Everything I'm throwing at you now is to move the story in the direction I want to go. While the WHOLE Inheritance Cycle followed Eragon and Saphira, other stuff is happening in the empire as well, stuff that interest me and I thought might interest you as well.

Everything I've been working on, everything I've been typing up, an everything I've stayed up late to finish, was to dive further into the other side of the story. Eragon is no longer a part of the Varden, he and Saphira have fled due to obvious reasons. I'm leaving the possibilities for their revenge, and entire future, open game. Why? Because they certain don't know what they're going to do and neither should you! That's part of the fun!

*rubs back of neck* I guess what I'm trying to say to you guys is that: I do actually have a plan. I'm not trying to shove all the Empire crap down your throat without letting you chew it, so I'm sorry if it comes across that way.

I just really wish you guys would tell me what the hell is on your minds! How am I supposed to know where to take this story if every one of you remains silent! The point is I'm just guessing and trying to find something both you, the audience as a whole, and I can, stomach. Any bit of input helps guys, don't be shy!

I don't want to give up on this story, not when we're so close to a break through and my writing abilities are starting to match my wants. I just wish I knew what all of you are thinking sometimes….

Cad out.

(this doesn't count as an update, the next one will come as planned)


	34. Play Nice

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

**I'm looking for a possible new beta Reader**, if anyone is interested. I don't ask for much, just that you read through and say when words don't sound right or get rid of repeated words. Grammar as well, but only slightly. I have/had a Beta, but she isn't answering my PM's or opening my DocXs. *shrugs* **Anyone?**

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_Pesky little bastards, _Shruikan roared into their minds as he lit their ranks aflame. He felt no joy spilling blood and taking lives in such an uncultured way, but no remorse either. The Varden forces were playing dirty, and there were more of them than he had first realized. He swung around for another sweep over their army, but found they had managed to hit him with a few well-placed arrows. Roaring, he swooped over their army towards there encampment, and set fire to their tents and supplies; he would make sure they would have no place to run when this was over.

Eying the forces clashing below him with disinterest, he spotted a group of over eager magicians who had set to blocking Melian's attempts at taking out the Varden's advancing towers. He rolled his eyes and decided since Melian lacked the magic to deal with them, it was his job. The city was faring well enough with the Varden force as a whole anyways, so he could focus himself instead of worrying about them. He ignored the screams of pain as he landed in the middle of the Varden force and began to wreak havoc, swinging his tail and neck around like battering rams until he held the soldiers at bay with pure fear. Shruikan scoffed at them and upon successfully breaking their lines in half, began setting the backs of their comrades aflame, resisting the urge to chuckle maliciously.

A sudden crash of magic hit the side of his head and caused him to lose his concentration, the flame from his maw cut short. He shook his head and turned to face his opponent, growling furiously. When he set his eyes on a single elf standing before him fearlessly, her right hand sporting a green glow of magic and her left holding an elegant sword until her knuckles turned white, he couldn't hold back his laughter. _Is this all the Varden can conjure up, one measly little elf? Against me? _He had to admit her shining armor was pleasing to the eye, but he knew his teeth could crunch through it in a second. He spotted the same rage in her eyes that he had seen in many before her, the kind that got warriors killed. She had a personal grudge against him, heavens knows why as he hadn't met her before today, but he could see it on her face and in her stance. He grinned, knowing it was this that would be her downfall.

Bracing his legs and arching his neck low to the ground, he faced off with her, suddenly remembering how fun grudges could be. Grinning, he summoned his flame and spit some at her, just enough to force her to summon a shield before her or be scorched. He heard her snarl at him and dive out of the way of another bit of flame, but watched her movements carefully, knowing she had some sort of trick up her sleeve.

Their dance resumed, with her constantly taking step after step back and him following, unknowingly walking right into a trap. One second he seemed to be winning, the next a giant net of magic was cast over he and he thrashed, finding it difficult to move. He bellowed and sprayed jets of flame everywhere, trying to hit her, but she easily avoided him.

Stalking towards the giant black dragon, she whipped off her helmet, revealing her full face. Shruikan was shocked for a moment, suddenly realizing who he was, and then settled back into glaring at her. "Hideous monster, now you regret taking the madman's side, don't you? No one can withstand the combined powers of the Varden and my people for long, and no one gets away with murdering my companions!" Arya seethed, the green fire in her hand flickering out as she placed both hands on her sword, preparing to end his life with a solid swing to his throat.

Shruikan lay there, seeming to accept defeat as she marched closer as he stared at her with wide eyes. He stilled his thrashing as she neared him, a mere few feet away from his face, and he found he could no longer open his mouth to hit her with fire. _Damn magicians, _he thought, a second plan already forming in his head, _I just had to take their attention off my arms and onto my mouth. _So he resumed his flailing, throwing his head around wildly until the force became too much and he could no long move his neck. He growled menacingly, but the she elf laughed him off, raising her sword above her head in preparation to strike and sufficiently end his life on these fields.

He had a 4 second window between when her blade began to fall and when he would be dead.

All the magicians' attention were on her.

He breathed out deeply.

Her blade started its haunting descent.

The hold on his head tightened.

But the force on his forelegs weakened.

He swung up and grabbed her, sinking his claws through her light armor in one full motion, and squeezed until he felt her blood on his paws.

She gasped, mouth falling open and eyes widening, the sword falling from her grip. In their shock, the spell casters must have forgotten their hold on his head as well, and he stood, taking advantage of their distraction. Pumping his wings furiously and shooting into the air, he left them behind without so much as a triumphant roar. All his attention rested solely on the fading elf in his grasp. He took her higher and higher into the air, safely away from the Varden's arrows and magicians. He circled through the air slowly, cracking into her dulling mind as the shock of blood loss set in. He was careful not to let her loose to much blood too quick. _Can't have you dying on me just yet, can we little elf, _he cooed sickeningly sweet into her mind. He was looking for one bit of information, but even in her fading state she fought him mentally. There was one vault in the back of her mind that remained locked, and he grappled with her for its secrets.

_Kill me… _She gasped, all her elven strength failing her, _you will never get what you want from me. _He scowled, knowing it was true, but one last attempt was worth a try. All he got was three little words, and that was enough for him. _Eragon… Traitor… Hadarac… _This confirmed Captain Brenden's letter, and his suspicions about their desertion of the Varden. He grinned, and knew she realized her defeat. With a satisfying squeeze of his claws, he whispered one last thing into her mind as she slowly died in his paw.

_This is for taking my egg away from me… _Satisfied that she was dead as he felt her spine crack beneath his strength and watched her blood ooze out of the wounds he had given her, he stared at her fair face, her cheeks still tinted pink with old life. Her heart no long beat, and through some sick feeling of satisfaction, he felt whole. He had killed the one responsible for taking the blue egg away from him, the rest from now on was to get the hatchling back. Letting her body drop, he watched it fall hundreds of feet until it crashed into the ground below, the sound lost in the roar of battle, and the smile fell from his face. He had just killed the Elven princess once and for all, and he sounded his victory to the world proudly.

With that, he left all thoughts of the elf far behind, speeding through the air to take care of a tower that he crept too close to the city walls for his liking. After that was taking care of, he landed for a rest and assessed the battle through calculating eyes. The Varden obviously did not plan on him being here; based on their equipment and lack of serious force. With his help, Melian was taking good care of the Varden forces, and the enemy had yet to breach even the outmost wall of the city.

_I suppose they have no idea how to truly take down a city this size, most of the fortresses in the south lack an outer wall such as this, _he mused, glancing at the thick, ancient stone that protected the city from attack. He noticed some damage there from earlier on where the Varden had used their trebuchets to try and wreck the wall before he had swooped down and burn their machines to the ground. Melian's archers were making good use of their bows, picking off the soldiers that climbed the ladders. He could not bring them down without risking taking down the wall as well, so he was forced to sit by and watch.

After a moment of rest he would be off again to scorch the Varden forces and hopefully drive them back, but for now he turned his attention to his bleeding wings. He pulled out numerous arrows and licked the wounds clean, gritting his teeth angrily the whole time. When he was finished, Shruikan took to the air again and set himself to the task of picking off those annoying wannabe magicians that had held him down earlier. One by one he plucked them up into his claws and snapped their backs, letting them drop back down as he had with the spoiled princess. He was surprised when one spell caster spoke into his mind calmly moments after he snatched her from her place towards the back of the lines, instead of screaming for mercy

_Dragon, I have no wish to die today. _He peered down at her with an incredulous look, wondering who she was and how she was so collected before death. _Perhaps, you and your king could make use of me. _She pushed, and he felt the growing uncertainty in her mind. No, she most certainly did not wish to die, but what use did he have of her: a meager magician who joined the wrong side; the side who was losing this battle. He raised an eye ridge at her and slowed his flight, holding her arms tight to her sides so she would not cast any spells.

_I'm listening, spellcaster. _He answered, and waited for her to come up with something useful, something that would save her life.

_I tell you what Nasuada is planning, you let me go? _He pondered this for a moment before he shook his head. Nope, he had no use for that information. His grip tightened, threatening to crush her, and she screamed, trying to get away.

_Do you know anything about the blue rider, female? _He questioned, not loosening his grip. She squirmed but otherwise fell still, quieting her screams. She was leader of a group of magicians who worked for Nasuada, who the dark skinned "queen" trusted; of course she knew about Eragon and Saphira.

_Everything, _she answered. Shruikan scoffed at her but his grip loosened a bit, barely enough for her to breathe comfortably again. He swung them around, turning in the air, and brought her back to Melian. She cried foul, thinking that he was about to save her for personal execution yet he silenced her.

_I sense you are loyal to a cause if the price is right, was the Varden not paying enough? _He questioned her, sitting there holding her in one paw lazily. She freed her arms and clung onto his fingers, desperate not to fall as she was fairly far up. She glared up at him haughtily, but he knew she was no threat to him.

_Not nearly enough. Nasuada is a fool; her forces are depleting and even know she begins to lose this war. _He grinned, amused by her honesty.

_The king would have interest in one like you; I sense you know what you want and you get it. What is it you want this time, little no name? _He inquired, already pressing at her mind to search for a clue. Much to his surprise, she let him in freely, and he swam through her memories. She was no content with the position she had in the Varden, she wanted more.

_So, Trianna, you do not wish to be a dragon rider. That _is _unexpected, _he cooed, searching further, deeper, into her mind until he found what he was looking for. When he did, he looked to her face, smirking as he earned a small blush. _Yes, I do believe the King would like a pretty little thing like you. _He set her down and she stared up at him in shock. Running a claw underneath her jaw gently, he chuckled deviously, flaring his wings once again.

_Gaurds, escort her to the nicest cell you have in Melian, I want her kept safe and tucked away until I return! _At that, Trianna found herself being pulled away, and she was about to throw a fit about being stored away in a cell, when he entered her mind again.

_You want your chance at sharing the King's bed, little pet, you have to play nice. I shall be back this evening to speak to you again, and it would be best for you to tell me everything you know about the blue rider's whereabouts. Only after I retrieve the blue rider and his dragon I will take you to the capital. _He took to the air again as she was lead into the cities keep, and he went to lay waste to the rest of the Varden's forces.

After pushing them back with jet after jet of fire, Shruikan followed the Varden forces until they were well away from the city. He made sure very few would survive the night with the burns he gave them; just enough would make it back to tell Nasuada about the horrid defeat. As he flew back to Melian, he wondered about the young magician and her future regarding his rider. Though he didn't doubt for a second she was pretty enough to get into Galbatorix's bed should she want to, he knew she was the type to push for something more. Galbatorix had yet to take a wife, but he had many possible heirs if need be. Shruikan doubted they would ever be necessary, but he knew the old man would retire someday.

_Good gods Shruikan, what is with all your constant pressure? Is there something you want me to hear? _Growled Galbatorix, who had felt the subconscious push for a connection Shruikan had put out. The dragon chuckled, knowing they would never truly understand how this rider and dragon thing worked, and landed in the courtyard of the Keep, hearing the roar of celebrations from inside the main building. The city was rejoicing the recent victory, and Shruikan knew he would join in later that evening, but first he wanted to show Galbatorix the girl.

_Girl? Dammit Shruikan, I'm busy with a war here! _Galbatorix shouted, but Shruikan knew it was only because his rider didn't like Shruikan giving him possibilities. He had made it quite clear he would never marry, not at least until the world was in order once again, but Shruikan had always ignored him. Most of the women the dragon had nudged him towards ended in them trying to take his life, running away, or just plain dying like humans did.

Galbatorix continued to grumble as Shruikan squeezed his way into the dungeons of the keep, startling numerous guards as he went. Shruikan growled at him and Galbatorix glared, but he did quiet down. _What does she look like? _Galbatorix mumbled, and by the sound of it, Shruikan would have guessed he was just a tiny bit, well, hopeful. Shruikan grinned at him and pushed for Galbatorix to see what he saw through his mind.

_Like that, _and Galbatorix fell silent again. Shruikan spoke into her mind to get her attention, wondering how this would all play out as she snapped to attention, realizing he was here to talk with her about Eragon.

_O-oh, you're back! _She cried, sounding eager, and she moved to the bars, wrapping her small hands around the metal rods cutting off her path. She rested her head against the bars, obviously wanting to be out of the cell. _Can I come out or not? _

_Uh uh uh, play nice, remember? _Shruikan chuckled, watching her glare settle in. _Smile, it looks better on you. _And she gave him a perplexed look, wondering why he cared what she looked like. Galbatorix sat in the back of his mind, still silent, watching the girl's every more carefully. _Now, what can you tell me about the blue rider? _

* * *

_I told you, I knew you'd like her, _Shruikan rumbled smugly, exiting the dungeon to join the party in the Keep. The end of his tail twitched happily as he heard Galbatorix grumble something in response, most likely denying it. He chuckled at his rider, wondering why the man was so edgy about his sex life.

_I've been stuck with you for over 100 years, you-over grown lizard, I don't need you setting me up with girls who could very well be my daughters, _Galbatorix sneered, obviously crossing his arms. Shruikan brushed him off, and continued on his way towards the party.

_She's not your daughter, idiot, and you say that about every one of them. I'll never have a family, so why the hell won't you get one for me? _Shruikan growled, hating that his rider had all these chances at love and never took them. _I have one female of my kind, ONE, and she's half way across the kingdom in the desert. _

_That doesn't mean anything- _Galbatorix started,

_Like hell it doesn't, _Shruikan roared into their minds, _I have to wait god knows how long for another female egg to hatch to even have a chance at family. YOU do not, so YOU have to-_

_Have enough sex for the both of us?_

_Precisely,_ Shruikan answered, and they both began to laugh light heartedly, happy to get away from such a serious matter. As it so happened, now that the battle for Melian had ended, the Battle for the North was just beginning. Even as he walked Shruikan lent energy to his rider, who was apparently suiting up to join the clash. They both knew it would be too dangerous for him to just jump in the middle of the fight and take on opponents like any other soldier, for no matter the King's skill with a blade; even he slipped up enough to be put at risk.

So Galbatorix was settling for going in and wreaking havoc on the elves from afar; if he could keep their minds fogged for even an hour or so, it might be enough. He planned on cutting all communications with the Elven officials and the Elven army itself. Without the ability to know when and where to move, the elves were more likely to be caught up in the fight and lose themselves. If they lost themselves, they were his.

Shruikan felt Galbatorix grin wickedly at the thought, the last pieces of his armor strapped on tight. The dragon knew he wouldn't get much out of the man once the fight started, so he rushed to confirm his plans before that happened. _So shall I burn the shipment of food or capture it and bring it back to Melian? _Shruikan inquired about the supplies Nasuada was apparently sending North, according to Trianna. He knew she wasn't lying, but he felt like she would be a handful once she was brought to Uru Baen. However, he felt it appropriate to leave her discipline and education to Galbatorix, seeing how the King had perfected the art after 100 years of training and patience. _Even Murtagh follows orders 95 percent of the time_, Shruikan snorted, and Galbatorix ignored him.

_Bring it back to Melian, no reason to waste good food. I take it after you will be heading East, yes? _Shruikan nodded, and is rider felt the movement. The King was slowly making his way towards the battle field, distracted by the conversation he was having with the dragon.

_Of course, unless you wish for me to fly up and assist you on the Northern front, _Shruikan offered, but Galbatorix brushed off the idea, and with good reason.

_Nonsense, the blue rider is top priority, besides, by the time you reached the front you'd be exhausted and the battle would be over. Just stay Melian a few days to wait for that shipment, make sure the Varden isn't planning any more attacks on the lower cities, and then go find that dragoness!_ Shruikan grinned at the enthusiasm in Galbatorix's voice, and began returning the energy Galbatorix had given him the day before. The king would need it, and Shruikan made it clear his rider was to take any energy needed from him as he slept. Galbatorix gave him a silent nod, and closed their link without a goodbye.

Shruikan chuckled and resumed his journey into the keep, knowing Melian needed to see him once again before he left. It would raise their spirits even higher, and hopefully seal their trust in the Empire's support in the fight for their lands. Bracing himself just as the guards swung open the doors, he was greeting with hundreds of gracious shouts and screams of gratitude. He smiled toothily, and joined in on the fun.

* * *

I was unsure whether or not to put Trianna in this one purely because I read this amazing fanfic where people don't like each other but then start too, and suddenly I'm forming pairings for EVERYONE in this story. Merness. _Little pet _is sooo going to be Trianna's nickname from Shruikan and Galbatorix is she sticks around. I think the King might teach her magic or something, thenn they falll in loveeeeee. :'D lawl.

But no, the real reason she's here is to follow up on the fact she was at the battle of Melian (she was the one who informed Nasuada about the fields) and though she would most likely be fighting, she doesn't strike me as the kind who would die for a cause. That, and Galbatorix is a man with a WHOLE FUCKING KINGDOM, of course women want to sleep with him. I mean hell, half of them don't even know what he looks like xD Ha

Also: aren't you guys happy? A super quick update, AND IT'S DOUBLY LONG! Weew! :'D be proud of me!

**Next Update: 3/5/12** Next Monday!


	35. Lady Mareen

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

I'm looking for a possible new beta Reader, if anyone is interested. I don't ask for much, just that you read through and say when words don't sound right or get rid of repeated words. Grammar as well, but only slightly. I have/had a Beta, but she isn't answering my PM's or opening my DocXs. *shrugs* Anyone?

* * *

Though the battle continued into the night with no customary grace period, when dawn broke the next morning Galbatorix had successfully taken back Gilead. He had exhausted himself with spell after spell, and his army fared no better; thousands of men slumbered on cots littered throughout the city, with thousands more splayed out in medic buildings awaiting healing or slowly dying. Had he more energy, the King himself would have gone from soldier to soldier to heal what the lesser magicians could not. Yet there were many who were lost, and the able had already begun the process of taking care of the dead. The bodies of the fallen elves were burned, as even with all the Empire's decency towards the defeated fair folk, there was nothing else they could do for the Atheist race.

As for their own dead, a mass cremation was being prepared. A pit was dug on the far reaches of the old Imperial camp where the bodies were laid in lines, and eventually stacked atop one another. Galbatorix thought it would be smarter to just start a fire with magic and not waste time to gather wood and oil, but his advisers insisted he let the remaining soldiers follow tradition for the sake of morale and a general sense of decency. Galbatorix slept for a few hours, but demanded to be woken up before the fire was lit. "As their monarch it would not do to miss the cremation," he barked, still somewhat cranky from the long night. That, and he didn't trust the lesser spell casters; he doubted they could raise the fires temperature enough to fully incinerate the bodies.

The fire burns high in the afternoon sun, eerily calming to the gathered survivors. Galbatorix watched all the men bowed their heads and prayed, prayed to gods he wasn't sure existed anymore. He hoped they did, of course, but he questioned their methods. Looking to his left and right, he realized he was the only one whose head was not lowered. Embarrassment tinted his cheeks and he ducked his head, closing his eyes. _Blast these rituals, _he muttered to Shruikan, who was just now waking up, but they both knew he didn't mean it.

_A little humbling shall do you good, old man, _the dragon yawned, stretching himself out. Galbatorix frowned at him but swiftly forced his face blank. He snuck a peek to the side to see his advisers beginning to lift their heads, and followed suit. Removing the crown from his head, he placed it in someone's hands and ordered them to take it away, "damn thing still hurts my head after all these years."

_Do you mean that figuratively or literally? _Shruikan asked, but his rider ignored him. He stood abruptly, striding towards his horse in hopes of getting on with the business of the city. "Allow them time to mourn, but move the soldiers into the city. Occupy every tavern and pub you can find, place cots in the hallways of every house. Do whatever you can, just get these men a place to sleep that isn't back breaking. Get them fed as well, and assure the citizens they will be paid for their hospitality," he instructed one of his four generals. The man looked surprised at his words.

"Soldiers in the city, is that wise, your grace? They'll be looking to get their hands on some cheap ale and will get quite rowdy." He stated, and Galbatorix knew it was true.

"Let them, they've earned it," the king asserted, and then thought better of it, "but make sure to assign some peace keepers throughout the lower levels, any fights should be broken up as quickly as possible." He commanded, and mounted his horse, adjusting the rein until the feel was right.

"Yes, your majesty," the general bowed, and excused himself to his own horse. The rider back to the city gate wouldn't take long, but Galbatorix was in a rush. The sooner he got things planned out and fixed, the sooner he could get back to napping, and that idea sounded dreadfully appealing to him. "Coric!" Galbatorix barked, and the councilman kicked is horse to catch up, reining his horse up beside him.

"Yes, your majesty?" He asked, seeming a bit breathless. Galbatorix glanced at him before setting is gaze back onto the approaching gate.

"What news of the captured elves?" Coric started, as if he wasn't expecting the King to speak even though he was hanging off his every word. He took a split second to remember everything they had learned about the elves they had captured that morning, then began speaking at lightning speed.

"Well, your majesty, three of them have been identified as advisers to the queen, but one perished from exhaustion a few hours ago. It seemed they conducted a joint spell to transport their queen out of the city and back to Ellesmera which ended the lives of at least four others. It was a very demanding spell that took an enormous amount of energy from them all. They are all very weak, but their magic blood seems to hold them among the living. It seems natures gifts have become their curse," Coric said in a whirl, confusing nearly every other man around them, but Galbatorix understood every word.

Now there were two reasons Galbatorix kept Coric at his side. The first was that he was his illegitimate son, but the second was for all the little quirks the young man held, and no matter how jittery he got, he was very, very bright. His mother had labeled it the intelligence of a dragon, no doubt in an effort to mark him the heir to the throne, but Galbatorix knew better. Though the boy could be annoying at times, he strove for Galbatorix's approval, and the king smiled upon that in itself. He was proud of his son, but he would never admit it. Coric also did not know who his father was, as his mother died when Coric was just a babe, and Galbatorix didn't care to broadcast his personal affairs to the world. So Coric grew up ignorant of his legacy, which Galbatorix thought best; he could never inherit it anyways.

"Their curse huh?" Galbatorix pressed, and Coric grinned nervously.

"Ah, yes your majesty. Their magic holds them alive while your spell keeps them still and unable to cast spells. You could leave them there to slowly rot, and there would be nothing they could do slowly wither away," at how cheerful his voice grew with that last part, Galbatorix shot him a look. Instead he shook it off and nodded to the younger man.

"Thank you Coric, you are dismissed," the King said politely, and Coric let his horse fall back into the assembly line. Over the din of his royal parting, Gakbatorix heard his name and "the king" numerous times, and he turned his head to hear better, muttering a spell.

"How old do you think he really is?" One asked, and Galbatorix smirked at the question; one of the most common he heard from his soldiers' minds.

"I'll bet you ten he's at least 200 years," another answered, but by the sounds of it, another hit him.

"Damn fool, no one can live 200 years! He'd be a husk of a man!" One barked, a bit louder than he had meant to apparently. The other two rushed to quiet him, and the first man whispered again.

"I reason it'some sort of witchcraft, him being a dragon rider…and…all," the man trailed off, terrified when Galbatorix suddenly swung his horse around and urged it to a trot until it stood directly in front of the three, looking down from horse back. The whole march slowed to a standstill and the three soldiers paled until it looked they would drop dead on the spot. Galbatorix didn't wish to frighten them so, but he hated rumors, no matter how small.

"Far from witchcraft, young man. I regret to inform you that you have lost your ten, as I am 127 years old," he said gruffly, a bit firmer than he had wished. With the whole army watching, he leaned down from the saddle a bit and whispered so only those around him could hear, "and far from a husk of a man." With that, he laughed heartily and swung his horse back around, ignoring the chided looks from his advisors. He had needed that, it raised his heart.

When they reached Gilead, Galbatorix went straight to the keep, searching out the Duchess who had recently been reinstated her control over her city. She was a beautiful woman, nearing her 40's, who had taken over when her husband died young. She was to govern until her son was able, but Galbatorix preferred her over her dim witted son. He feared that when she fell and gave control to her son, he would have to keep the boy on a short leash. "Lady Mareen," he bowed his head politely, and she curtsied to him in turn.

"Your majesty, may I be the first of my city to thank you for liberating us," Mareen crooned, her voice as level and gracious as ever. He smiled at her, and their usual bantered continued until they entered her private office, when suddenly their talk grew serious. Lady Mareen fell into a chair and let out a heavy sigh, an uncharacteristically informal action. He raised an eyebrow at her back leaned against her desk, crossing his arms. "I don't know if I will be able to take much more of this, your grace." She sighed, fanning herself and falling back into her proper lady like attitude. It was true; Galbatorix regarded her as one of his closest friends, if he could really say he had those, and he understood her weariness.

"If you require anything of me that might ease your burden, do not hesitate to ask, I know how troublesome this last year has been for you and your rule," he assured, and she graced him with a soft smile.

"Thank you, your grace. Pardon my language, but those damn elves gave me hell when there were here," she growled, and he chuckled at her. _You never cease to surprise me, Mareen, _he thought, but kept it to himself. He never knew what to expect from the woman, but he knew when he gave her a command she was sure to follow it to the very letter. Truthfully, he needed more women like her; she was better than most of the men he was forced to surround himself with. Had his visit been on more pleasant terms, he would have enjoyed supping with her leisurely and wooing her a second time, but her city was his main concern, not her bed.

"What can you tell me about the elven front, milady?" He inquired, hurrying on to business before his mind grew distracted. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter, flipping out her fan again to cool her face.

"As soon as they knew the city was lost, they sent the queen back, as you may know. I'll have a report written up with the full details of any overheard plans of theirs tonight and presented to you on the morrow, but I heard some alarming news they seemed nervous about, even when they though the battle was won." He pushed her forward with a look of interest, and she took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing, "it seems their troops in the spine spotted some recent activities on the water. Unfamiliar boats came from the south west and seemed to be testing the waters. Something about… red sails…I do believe, but my elfish is a bit rusty after so many years."

Galbatorix nodded, but his mind was already racing. Unknown to most of the Empire the oceans to their west continued hundreds of miles, nearly un-sailable by any boat known in all of Alagaesia. When he and Shruikan travelled there, however, he encountered a kingdom unlike any other he had seen. At first communication had been difficult, and the people assumed Shruikan was there to eat their livestock, but with the use of a rough translator Galbatorix had been able to begin negotiations.

One thing Galbatorix remembered was there unique water machines, how they tore through the water with giant oars as the salty wind filled their sails. Red sails. Galbatorix prayed to every god he knew of that his message had made it over the great expanse of sea despite the colossal amount of magic it took. He had sent many months before, so many he had nearly forgotten, but optimistically thinking, his message seemed to have made to their hands of Cratq, the King of the West, or maybe one of his descendants.

With that news, Galbatorix's mood was lifted significantly. He knew now he would have to transport southwest to Narda, but that was merely a matter of harvesting enough energy, and he could count on his collection of Elundari for that. "I regret I will have to leave you tomorrow, but I trust in your abilities to keep the northern front in order until I return. My journey should not take more than a few days, and I shall leave Murtagh and Thorn here with you." Mareen nodded to him, and they traded words until an agreement was made. No moved were to be made against the elves, and should they strike back Lady Mareen could lead the defense with the help of Galbatorix's generals. He assured her that Murtagh would know what to do should anything occur, and he assured himself this was true.

He left her several hours later, completely exhausted and utterly cranky. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned, wondering what was sapping his energy so. He reached out to Shruikan and sighed, now knowing what was taking from him. _Flying for Furnost already?_

_I thought it best to leave before Melian grew too attached to my magnificence, _Shruikan grinned and earned a laugh from his rider. He had the right idea, however, the city had begun to insist they repay him for his assistance, and Shruikan would have none of that, so he left before they could arrange for any compensation. Now he was safely heading east in search of the blue dragonness and rider who had become his top priority. Shruikan knew he would have to make a short stop in Furnost purely to rest up and restore the city's faith in their King, but other than that he refused to stop until he reached the desert.

_I assured Melian that reinforcements would be sent down to aide in any more Varden assaults, _Shruikan reminded Galbatorix, and the King nodded in confirmation. With Shruikan no longer guarding his southern border, he had sent word to General Ren in Uru Baen about the needed forces in Belatone and Dras Leona. The experience commander needed no more instruction than that, and Galbatorix thanked the gods for such a man. Laying down on a bed that felt like heaven and smelt of crisp satin sheets, the King allowed himself to relax. His day was done and everything needing attention was either taken care of or not needing his attention after all. He trusted lady Mareen to reinstate order in the city while he was away, but for now, all he could think about was sleep.

_Goodnight, Shruikan, _Galbatorix murmured as he buried his face into a pile of pillows, and he fell asleep to the sounds of his dragon laughing. Shruikan would be flying through the night in order to reach Furnost the next afternoon but the dragon would not be taking any more of his riders energy; Galbatorix would need it far more than he when he awoke.

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Sorry for any mistakes guys, I wrote this all in one day for you guys. Now I'm starting my homework late. I hope it's worth it! :D See you Thursday, my lovelies~**  
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**Next Update: 3/8/12** Next Thursday!


	36. Lizard Hunting

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

I'm looking for a possible new beta Reader, if anyone is interested. I don't ask for much, just that you read through and say when words don't sound right or get rid of repeated words. Grammar as well, but only slightly. I have/had a Beta, but she isn't answering my PM's or opening my DocXs. *shrugs* Anyone?

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Eragon's mind had been slowly calming down over the past week. Rhonny seemed to be someone he could trust, Saphira admitted to liking the young woman as well, and they had developed a system for not getting in each other's way. When they landed, Rhonny would fix them something half edible to eat while Eragon unpacked his gear and helped Saphira get comfortable. Eragon made it clear after the first landing, and at Saphira's advice, that the only reason she was doing the cooking was because she was obviously the better cook. She had found it funny he felt the need to clarify, but accepted it anyways.

The third time they made camp, Eragon watched her work as he did his own tasks, noticing she wasn't as uptight as he thought she'd be, and she didn't mind getting her hands dirty. When she caught him staring she raised an eyebrow but handed him a bowl of stew anyways. He went hunting during the night when the other two were asleep, eager to catch some of those surprisingly tasty lizards that burrowed into the sand until the sun went down and came alive under the moon. Crouched safely on a rock as he waited for the desert animals to move so he could hit them with a bit of magic, he thought he was alone until Rhonny whispered in his ear.

"What are you doing?" She asked, sliding onto the rock next to him. He jumped and swore, nearly tripping in his own haste. Blushing, he sat back down on the boulder, grateful the moonlight wasn't bright enough for her to see his embarrassment. He glared at her yet she smiled at him, choosing not to retaliate.

"I'm lizard hunting," he grumbled, hitching a leg up and resting his arm on his knee. Rhonny looked out over the sands, searching for any signs of the animals he hunted. She frowned and turned her head to him.

"I don't think it's working," she whispered, and he glared at her again knowing she was the one who scared them all off.

"Well yeah! After your little stunt they've all gone back under the sand. Now we just have to wait," he answered, and they sat in silence for a few minutes before Rhonny grew bored and hopped down from their perch, beginning to walk away aimlessly. Eragon frowned, "where are you going?"

"This is no fun, I'm going to find some," she shouted back to him. He opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again. No, lizard hunting was most certainly not fun, but that didn't mean they could just wander away from camp in the middle of the night to god knows where. They might get lost, or worse, attacked. His hand flew down to where he kept his sword, and remembered he had taken it off his belt at supper and left it leaning against Saphira's saddle. _This is not good, _Eragon though as he jumped off the rock and ran after her.

"We can't just leave; what if we don't find our way back?" He reasoned, walking next to her. She rolled her eyes and stopped to point behind them in the direction they came.

"We won't get lost if we can still see Saphira. I can still see her, can you?" She argued, and Eragon could see her point. So he sighed and they continued walking. The silence continued until Eragon's mind made it to a random thought and he spit it out without thinking about it.

"So what's up with your ears? Are you an elf or something?" He asked bluntly, and her hand flew up to her ear. His eyes widened and he started to apologize at his lack of courtesy, but she waved him off.

"I am only half elf, dragon rider. Just enough to curse me with these knife ears," she growled, and his gaze flicked to her ears. She looked to his as well, noticing he had the slight point as well, "you too huh? I guess that's one thing we have in common then." He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Ah no, that's a dragon rider thing. I don't know why it happens, but it has something to do with the magic the bond gives us," he explained, and she nodded. Truthfully he didn't like his ears either, the slight point made him appear to be some kind of mutant, a crossbreed between elf and man. It also made it hard to act normal in cities; the only thing people noticed about him was the ears.

They walked in silence for a while again, and Eragon settled for watching the clear sky. Rhonny looked back casually to make sure she could still see the giant heap of sleeping dragoness before looking back to her feet. She thought about the man next to her, and with slight surprise, realized he must be young than she. "How old were you when you became a dragon rider, Eragon?" Not daring to ask him his age outright, she settled for a calculated guess and hoped he'd tell her anyways.

"Huh? Oh, I was fifteen," he answered, and her eyes must have widened considerably because he continued to explain, "I found Saphira's egg in the woods when I was hunting one day. I tried to sell it for some meat for the winter to feed my family but the butcher wouldn't take it. Then…" He trailed off, remembering his uncle Garrow and his first flight with Saphira, Brom and Murtagh, "the rest is history…" he finished, looking back up to the sky to distract himself. He noticed the memories didn't hurt him so bad anymore and realized it had been nearly five years since it all happened.

Not really knowing what to say to that, she remained silent. He glanced at her but didn't mind the lapses of conversation; it had been a while since he had talked with… Anyone. "So do you really have the silver hand?" She chirped, turning to him as he walked. Eragon grinned and held up his right hand, flashing the metallic insignia in the moonlight. She gasped and grabbed his hand before he could let fall back to his side, facing him completely. "Arûna Gûntera!"

He looked at her, startled by her words. She looked up a few seconds later and released his hand, letting him retract it slowly. Eragon stared, confused, until he found his words again. "Rhonny, do speak Dwarfish?" She looked down, gluing her eyes to his chest as she answered.

"I am half elf… and half dwarf. I was raised by my father, that is why you found me on the edge of the Beor Mountains," she half whispered, and now he understood. He made him think back a week when he chased after her and his eyes widened, _I kidnapped a woman! Oh my god!_ She stepped away from him and marched on, "but that doesn't matter because my mother abandoned me because I wasn't pretty enough. How I look is just a stupid reminder for me." She growled as he caught up to her.

"Wait what?" he asked, but she didn't answer him, and they were back to silence. Eragon looked behind them to check where Saphira was once, and then set his attention onto Rhonny again. He felt the need to say something, not wanting to leave it on such a sour note for her. "My mother left me with my uncle and aunt after I was born," he whispered to her, and she offered him a sad smile.

"Well, then THAT can be something we have in common," she laughed, and he grinned in response. For the next hour or so they walked slow, trading questions and answers about each other's lives. Eragon told her about Brom with surprisingly little difficulty, and she told him about growing up with dwarves. He explained his training, and she explained why she was on the edge of the desert in the first place.

"So you really ran away from home because you were bored?" He asked, incredulous. She chuckled, not quite believing it herself.

"Well yeah, I was looking for adventure!" She laughed, and his whole kidnapping guilt was ease considerably. So he was really just a means for her to get out into the world instead of being stuck in the mountains for the rest of her life. Sadly, it probably wasn't the venture she was hoping for. "When did that get there?" She screeched, and his gaze snapped from his feet to her, then where she was pointing.

A mountain loomed in front of them, its form lost in the dark of night from a long distance away, but now that they were closer they could see it. Eragon wondered how they didn't spot it when the sun was still up; after all they hadn't made camp too far away. He realized it was probably because they were all so tired, and none of them were really looking out for mountains. "Let's check it out!" Rhonny urged, but Eragon grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"No, we've gone far enough, we can see what's on the other side after we get back to Saphira and sleep a bit. Then in the morning we'll all fly out to explore," Rhonny pouted, but didn't complain as he led her back the way they came. He could feel the pull of Saphira's not too far off, but lost in their conversation he had forgotten to check if he could still see her.

The next day they did exactly what Eragon had suggested, and with Saphira, they discovered a secret haven in a world of sand. When the rain fell down the mountains, one of them being the one Eragon and Rhonny had spotted, it collected in a valley between them. It was an unusually large oasis, and it was shockingly lush for a desert area. It was full to bursting with strange colored birds and odd looking scaled creatures that flicked their tongues out, tasting the air, and scattered whenever one of them came to close. Saphira couldn't stop her humming, _Eragon, this place is perfect! _

It went unsaid that she was referring to both her needs, and her eggs'. Eragon smiled up at her as he hung his legs over the ledge in front of their selected cave. They could look out over the whole paradise from their vantage point, and it wasn't that bad of a climb to get there from the small lake down the side of the mountain. Eragon had made sure to climb it all the way at least once to be sure he could make it up without Saphira, and Rhonny did the same, but the half dwarf made it up the rocks much easier than he. By the time he had reached the ledge, panting, she was nibbling lazily at the foreign fruit she had plucked from a tree, giving him a smug look.

"How much longer," he asked, glancing towards her slightly swollen stomach. If anyone saw her they'd guess she was just eating more lately if they didn't already know her secret, but it was all Eragon saw whenever he looked at her. Despite the circumstances, Eragon was overjoyed at the idea of raising a baby dragon. He had done it once already, so he was confident he could help Saphira out, but the thought still made him smile.

_I do not know, Eragon,_ Saphira muttered, craning her neck around to look at her belly as well. They were both nervous, and she knew Eragon worried for the well-being of her eggs as well, but she was anxious about other things as well. She knew the birth would be painful, and she knew she had yet to build a nest (which she was planning on doing in this cave now that she found it) but there were times she knew she wasn't ready for an egg. It was too soon, she was too young, she didn't have a mate and there was a war going on. If anyone got a hold of her babies they'd take them away from her and use them for their side of the war. _Bless the gods, what if Nasuada get a hold of one, nay, all of them? _The idea made her shudder; the naïve dark skinned woman would ruin them. Saphira didn't even want to think about the elves taking them either.

"Eragon!" Rhonny called as she climbed up the slope towards their cave, "this place is huge!" She had been exploring every chance she got after they arrived, and had set a personal goal to know her way around the oasis perfectly. That morning she had finished this side of the lake, and that afternoon she would set out for the other side, but only after she sat down with them for a bit of lunch. It was good for them to finally have a break from the constant flying they had endured over the past few weeks, more so Eragon and Saphira.

Rhonny heaved herself up onto the smooth rocks and plopped down, exhaling heavily. She pulled her knapsack off her back and set it down next to her, beginning to fish out everything she had collected on her adventure. "Look at all this stuff! I found these rocks by the river, and you wouldn't believe how many fruit trees there are down there!" She exclaimed, excitedly placing food all around her, and handed a few to Eragon. "Those are delicious, try one!" She sang still fishing through her bag for more as the rider eyed the reddish fruit; it certainly wasn't anything he'd ever eaten before. He glanced at Saphira and she gestured for him to try it, so he took a tentative bite and chewed slowly as if he expected it was poisoned. "Like it?" He nodded slowly, before taking another bite. And another. It did taste good; sweet, yet tangy, and utterly foreign to his tongue.

So they ate, and Rhonny told him all about what she'd seen in their sanctuary, from the strange hairy creatures that swung through the trees with arms like men, to the boiling ponds that dappled the mountain side. "You should see them Eragon, I tested the water and it's just like a bath!" She seemed giddy at the idea, and Eragon reasoned he could probably use a bath as well. He looked down to his clothes and cringed, _no, I definitely need a bath. _

When their stomachs were full and their conversation about Rhonny's discoveries had lulled, Eragon leaned back against the cave wall and splayed himself out in the sun, yawning. It was a good time for a nap, and he needed one after walking around with Rhonny the night before. He sighed heavily and his eyes slipped closed, listening to the strange animal calls from below and the bubbling of the springs Rhonny had mentioned.

Saphira was not soothed to sleep by a full stomach, so she settled for laying her head down on the stone and watching Rhonny swing her legs on the edge, looking at everything with fascination in her eyes. Her sandy hair fluttered with the breeze as she leaned back on her hands, content with the world. _That girl seems to be a good influence on Eragon, _Saphira thought as she watched the human girl sitting in the sun. She knew Eragon found her pretty, but she had felt no deeper feelings than that, so she did not worry about that, yet something was bugging her. _Rhonny, when you first saw me you didn't seem frightened at all, why is that?_

"Hmm? Oh don't worry Saphira, you are terrifying I'm sure, but I've seen dragons before is all," Saphira's eyes widened at her words and she stood to walk over and carefully sit next to the human on the ledge, craning her neck around to look her in the face.

_Tell me, _she demanded firmly, and Rhonny seemed taken back for a moment.

"Well… When I was six years old my father took me to Orthiad for the meeting of the clans. It was said the Empire had sent a dragon with eggs, so I begged to go. Apparently the clans had made a deal with Galbatorix that if one of their own was made a dragon rider they would side with him in the war against the Varden, so all thirteen clans had come. My father shooed me into line even though I was a bit young, and I saw the dragon that had brought the eggs and sat behind them, guarding them, and scrutinizing every single one of us." Saphira inhaled shakily, wondering if she knew who it was. It was most likely the King's dragon himself, but she was told Shruikan never left Uru Baen.

_Can you tell me what he looked like? _She asked softly, and Rhonny nodded, standing up.

"He had four spikes here," she recalled, gesturing to Saphira's cheek spikes, "but a second horn here, smaller," she added, touching the spot just below Saphira's horns. "And he had all these along the top of his muzzle and head and down his neck, but they weren't as rounded as yours, far sharper. A few were broken as well." Rhonny said, pausing to remember more. She ran two fingers over Saphira's lip, whispering, "and the slightest scars over his lips… it looked so sad." She closed her eyes, trying to remember more, standing there with her hand on Saphira's face until she did. "His eyes were golden orange, like fire, but his scales were night black. He was larger than you too, and his scales didn't lighten up so much on his underside… He was… terrifying."

Saphira let her stand there watching the young woman's face as she recollected, patient yet needing more. From the description she received it most certainly was Shruikan, but that made no sense. _Shruikan hasn't left Uru Baen in 100 years, just like Galbatorix… Why would the Varden lie about that? Who cares if the King's dragon had been seen; if they told us we would've been prepared for it, not taken completely by surprise should it happen! _She fought back a soft growl, wondering what possessed the Alliance and convinced them not to share this vital information.

_And the eggs, _Saphira asked Rhonny, _what about them?_ Rhonny frowned, scratching her face as she thought back.

"Uhh… There was four of them all in a row placed in padded boxes, and we made our way towards them one step at a time. You were permitted to touch one egg at a time and had to wait for the black dragon to tell you to move to the next. My father said he was checking the minds of the hatchlings for any sign of a connection, though I had no idea what he was talking about," she grinned, sitting back down between the sleeping form of Eragon and Saphira, swinging her legs over the edge again. "There was a bright blue one, a hazy grey, a salmon orange, and a muddy purple. I loved the look of the orange one, but obviously none of them responded to me. It was pretty disheartening, but I was young and completely forgot about it until I saw you… Saphira, I think I touched your egg!" Rhonny exclaimed, but Saphria eyed her suspiciously.

_Four eggs, this human must be mistaken. There is only one egg left after Thorn hatched. And those colors! _Saphira thought incredulously. Though she didn't want to admit it, a spark of hope ignited in her core. _Four others? _The idea of more eggs was heart wrenching. Not only did it mean there was a chance of her eggs finding companions, but also a big possibility she was not the only female out there! The fate of her race was no longer on her shoulders; surely there were others to share the burden. She smiled, yet frowned, _the Varden was wrong… Did they not know, or… did they lie? _

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You guys made me so happy with the recent fluctuation in the reviews, I was so tempted to post this early! But I have a big Biology project to work on this week, so I don't think I'll find the time to write Thursday's chapter if this one was posted today instead. Sorry :/ Also, towards the end of this month I might skip an update and work purely on plot because I'm slowly running out of planned chapters xD Heh, so yeah, we'll see

**Also:** Look guys! Another 3,000+ word chapter! 8D Proud of me?

So with that, till next time my darlings!

**Next Update: 3/12/12** Next Monday!


	37. Curious

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

This is completely unedited/I just wrote it 20 minutes ago and have not read through it. Hopefully my new Beta will get on it soon :)

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With Rhonny off exploring once again, Eragon and Saphira were left alone in the cave. They thought about looking over the oasis as well but Saphira didn't want to walk everywhere, so they settled for flying. Eragon strapped Saphira's saddle on with practiced ease, barely looking at his fingers as he worked. Once he hoisted himself up and strapped himself in Saphira launched into the sky from the ledge and carried them towards the sun.

In the oasis it was easy to ignore the dry heat of the desert with all the trees and ponds, but in the air they were reminded of how hot it was. Saphira hummed with the sun and wriggled happily, but Eragon was forced to pull off his shirt, already sweating. _You will get burned, _his dragon warned, but Eragin chuckled.

_I'm pale, a little sun will do me good, _he reassured her, so she shrugged and let it go. Feeling the heat on his shoulders and back made him sleepy, but the roar of the wind in his ears kept him awake. It was a surprisingly confusing conversation; his body didn't know whether to doze off or not. _Why can't everyday be like this, _Eragon sighed, stretching on Saphira's back.

Saphira agreed with him halfheartedly; her mind was elsewhere. _Eragon… what did Blodgharm tell you? Why did we leave so… suddenly? _She had not been able to get away from her throats ever since they left the Varden, it was haunting her. Did the elves know something about her condition? Did Blodgharm tell Eragon, is that why they left so unexpectedly?

_Saphira, I do not think this is a good time, _Eragon whispered, knowing telling Saphira while she was flying was certainly a bad idea.

_It is a good a time as any, Eragon, tell me what Blodgharm told you, _Saphira growled, and Eragon sighed. This was not the time he wanted to explain everything, so he fought to find the right words to let her down gently.

_Blodgharm said… the elves may have been involved… in your condition… _Saphira stayed silent, her mind picking that apart until the cold truth was all that remained.

_What you're saying is… I'm pregnant thanks to the elves..? _She asked, not even knowing if that was possible. She had always reasoned it was something to do with the Empire, and it was that idea that fueled her flight east; she was flying to get away from those who had hurt her. At first she had wanted to lay waste to their castles and burn their bodies, but Eragon's nature had gotten in the way of her revenge so she settled for escape.

Escape from the Empire, escape from the pressures to be the mother of her race, escape from everything. Eragon had not noticed, but her heart had hardened over the last few months. The war was taking its toll on her spirit, sapping the soul right out of her. Only Eragon had held her up, helped her don a mask of violence loving vengeance until Rhonny came along, yet now the girl was softening her as well.

Her eyes began to sting and Saphira pushed herself higher into the air, ignoring Eragon's voice in her head and the pressure of his mind against hers. Cracking, she roared with every bit of sadness, relief, and anger she had within her and fire burst from her maw. She burned the air with her flames until her throat became so hoarse she could no longer roar, and her eyes burned with tears she didn't know she could produce.

Eragon screamed, trying to warn her about the approaching danger, but it was too late; by the time her eyes cleared enough to see the mountain of sand tearing towards them they were sucked into the sandstorm. Saphira fought the winds with wing breaking power, but not even she could fight nature and win. So she let herself be sucked into the gusts and be thrashed on the currents, tossed this way and that.

On her back Eragon was hugging onto the saddle and squeezing his eyes shut, praying for their lives. _This isn't a terrible way to die, _Saphira reasoned, but she knew this was not the way she wanted to go. She screamed when her wing was snapped back at an unnatural angle but the only thing on her mind was her rider who clung onto her back for life. She couldn't let him die, and she wouldn't leave him alone in the world due to her own selfish misery. He had left his whole life behind for her, and it was her turn to return the favor.

Shruikan was hunkered down for a bit of rest when he heard the roar of the storm and the piercing wail of one of his own. His head shot up and he scanned, wide eyed, knowing for his own safety he should just lay there and let whatever dragon was out there suffer through the storm; it took a lot to kill a dragon. He was almost content with that logic as the storm raged closer until he heard another roar.

Standing to his feet Shruikan ignored the winds that bit his hide and sand that sung his eyes and he began marching in the direction of the storm. He knew it would be suicide to try to fly in this weather, so his pace was painfully slow, but once he was in the middle of it all and looked up for the deserts upcoming victim his burning eyes widened. _It's her, _he thought but the joy of their first meeting was pushed back by an overwhelming bad feeling. She would surely be thrown to the ground by the storm and killed. By the looks of it her wings were already broken, and he knew what he had to do.

_Seven hells, you owe me one little girl, _he growled, and launched into the sky. He had only been in one of these storms before and he prayed he remembered how to maneuver. His heart pumped until he could hear nothing else as he neared her, the storm quieting all around him as his pulse pounded through his skull. His skin tingled as the sand sprayed against his scales and he fought to keep his eyes open. He spun around her, trying to find a good place to wrap himself around her and bring her down, but her body just kept spinning.

_Saphira, you must work with me or you, your rider, and I will not survive this storm, _he whispered into her mind. He felt her panic, and her pain, but thankfully she could not open her eyes to see him or she'd fight him. Shruikan saw her reached her paws out and took the opening, latching onto her body with his own talons and enclosing her in his wings. Saphira did not know what he was doing yet she had no choice but trust him with her life. She was scared out of her wits and clung onto this strange dragon desperately.

Had she control over her thoughts she wouldn't have said "I don't know who you are, but if you save my life I will owe you a big one." Fortunately, Shruikan got the gist from her torrent of thoughts. Grinning despite himself and the situation they were in, Shruikan tucked her head down under his and they dropped. The worst thing about these types of storms wasn't trying to get in, it was getting out. There was only one way and that involved his shoulder slamming into the sands after dropping two hundred feet through the air. Random gusts of wind slowed their descent but he gritted his teeth, knowing this was going to hurt him more than her or her rider.

Eragon had no idea what was going on any more than his dragon, but after being wrapped in Shruikan's wings he dared peak out with one eye and found himself encased in black. The winds were all but gone, yet sand still gathered in various places. He realized with the sinking feeling in his stomach they were dropping. His eyes widened and he began to see spots, all the blood rushing to his head. Then the world boomed and they went tumbling. Had he not been strapped in, Eragon would've been sent flying this way and that, but he leaned in close to Saphira's back and held on so tight his knuckles turned white, praying to every god he knew he was still alive.

Then the world stopped whirling and they lay there, only moving to breathe. Shruikan shuddered, and he groaned, not daring to move his shoulder quite yet. He had been far worse when fighting rival dragons, but never without Galbatorix to heal him immediately after. He guessed Eragon did not have the abilities to help him, and he guessed correctly. Saphira's ears buzzed and her heart thumped uncontrollably from the rush she hoped to never feel again anytime soon. Her thoughts gathered, and after checking Eragon wasn't in any serious pain, she dove into this strange dragons mind to flood him with thanks.

_You're welcome, young one, _Shruikan managed to rumble but he could not keep the pain from his mind to seep into her own. This wasn't how he wanted to meet her for the first time, hell, he had kind of hoped to impress her right off. But that didn't seem possible, so settled for het temporary unbiased thanks he knew would melt away as soon as she saw the color of his scales.

Unwrapping his wings from her back, he let the light in, knowing the storm had left as quickly as it had come. He held a roar in his throat at the shattered feeling in his shoulder and side as he retracted his head from hers and rolled over, slumping on his side. With every breath he took he saw black and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stop his pitiful whines and whimpers of pain.

Eragon untied himself from the saddle and fell into the sand from an odd angle with a thud, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He laid there only for a few seconds before he sprang to his feet and ran around the bulk of Saphira, practically climbing onto Shruikan's body in his haste to get to head and look into his pain filled eyes. He opened his mouth to say something and Shruikan blinked slowly as if even that stung him. Eragon opened and closed his mouth once again before just staring at Shruikan.

_Disappointed you don't have your sword with you to slay me, rider? _Shruikan tested, abdomen heaving with pain as he inhaled. The pain wasn't going to fade anytime soon, and it did not put him in a good mood. At Shruikan's words, however, Eragon said nothing. Instead he trailed his eyes to Shruikan's torn shoulder where the blood gushed down his side and over his back. He knew he couldn't heal the wound beneath, but he could mend the surface.

Shruikan's eyes rolled to the back of his head as Eragon ignored his taunt to cast a spell and close the gash on his shoulder. It didn't heal as much as he truly wished, but it made a small difference in the pain. Instead of a sharp tug his shoulder reduced to a pulsing ache that he could deal with. Making sure the ride was clear of his feet and back next to his dragon, Shruikan rolled to his feet, gritting his teeth at the rough movement. He withheld his growls, knowing he could not afford to seem threatening to the pair, and turned to look them over with heavy golden eyes.

No one spoke for what seemed like hours until Saphira dropped her gaze, Eragon busy healing anything he could find wrong with her wings. She didn't even dare hiss at the slight pain knowing what Shruikan was suffering through. Her mind was everywhere although her face didn't show it, and reaching in Eragon's mind she found he was questioning the same things as she. It was only when she looked back up to Shruikan with a small fire in her eyes that she linked her mind with his. _Why the hell did you save us? _

Shruikan sighed and looked away from her in search of something, and to avoid her gaze. He had hoped he'd catch up to them in the next few days but he wasn't exactly ready to explain to either of them the way he wanted to. So he struggled to grasp onto a suitable answer as the dragoness sat there none too patiently. _There would be no gain in letting you die when I could save you. Regardless of your affiliation you are still a dragon, like me. _He stated firmly, and no matter how much she wished to be mad at him, she couldn't.

How could you assault someone who had saved your life and hurt themselves to do so? She growled at him, warning, but did not move to strike him. With his injury she had a chance of winning, but her wings were still sore and he was so… large.

He dwarfed her, nearly two times her size, which surprised her as she had thought he'd be far larger with the help of black magic. She thought back to Thorn and how the hatchling was bigger than her as well due to that very reason, and she growled again. _I assume you are the King's traitor of a dragon, so why are so far from your master? _

Choosing to ignore her ignorance towards his history and relationship with Galbatorix, he responded calmly, _to find you of course. Couldn't have the last female flying to heaven knows where without finding out what she was up to, _he reached a claw up and scratched his muzzle lightly, a movement that brought Saphira's eyes to his. He saw disbelief there and wariness as well, yet to his surprise a significantly small amount of malice; he was off to a better start than he had hoped.

_My business is none of your or your treacherous King's concern, _she asserted but Shruikan merely rolled his eyes at her. Of course her business was his concern; it was all of Alagaesia's concern. She was the last female alive until more eggs hatched, including the ones in her belly and the one he carried as well.

_Your business became my business more than anyone else's when the eggs in your belly began to grow, _he growled and watched her eyes widen, terrified. _Yes, I know a mutual friend of ours told me after you and your rider flew off, _he continued, mentioning that night when she had brutally maimed Thorn and Eragon had knocked Murtagh unconscious. After they left, Blodgharm had been quick to diffuse the situation and strike a deal. At the time Shruikan thought he was getting the upper hand, but upholding his part had proved a bit more difficult than he realized. It was over the past few weeks he had realized although he had no gotten the better end of the bargain; it had been as fair as it could've possibly been. Shruikan longed to tell her everything, all the words that had been exchanged between him and those elves, and all the promises they each made, but he feared it would over whelm her.

Saphira wisely cut Eragon out from their conversation as soon as Shruikan mentioned her eggs; some things were left to dragons alone, no matter who he was or how much she trusted her rider. _How did you know?_ She hissed, growing defensive and warning him to keep himself in line. Shruikan would have shrugged but the action would've filled his body with pain.

_Blodgharm told me, of course. I know what the queen did, and I know how I can help, _he whispered the last sentence and his eyes fell to her paws. Unsure on whether she still felt threatened by him, he sunk his head down below hers before continuing, _if you would let me. _

_You are Galbatorix's dragon, the killer of my master and many more. You brought the rider's to their doom! You, and your rider, are mad! I wouldn't even consider such a thing! Now get away from me! _She roared, and he backed away to appear even less threatening. It made him sad she rejected his offer without even consulting her rider, but it made him mad as well. If anything, he knew one thing he could use to his advantage.

_All your life you've only had one person you could trust; the boy who raised you. You're angry, and you have reason to be, but you're also ignorant of your own history and of the world before you were born. Do you have any idea why this war was started, other than what the elves have told you? Do you really believe you can trust them after what they've done to you? _Shruikan snarled, angry at fate more than her. _If I had just guarded your egg better that night, none of this would have happened, _he whispered in his own mind, but Saphira heard it.

_You think the weight of our race is all on your shoulders, little one, but it's not! There are others, dozens of eggs waiting to hatch once the spell breaks. The same one the elves put on them hundreds of years ago that keeps them imprisoned in their own shells. The same one that held you, or do you not remember? I sang to you, young one, when you grew lonely in that dark prison waiting for that boy to come along, _he motioned to Eragon. _Do you want to same thing for your own eggs, to wait from a human that might never come? Or do you want them to be raised free as wild dragons like your mother Vervada? _Finally finished and hoping he made his point, Shruikan retreated from her mind slightly. If she chose to answer him he would hear her, but only if she called out to him.

Saphira sat there, stunned as his words and his passion. Wishing to consult Eragon, she gave him only the bits and pieces that she deemed acceptable for his ears. Left just as stunned as she, Eragon wished to help her decide but could not. Finally they decided for every negative reason she found to make Shruikan leave, he'd search for a positive to counter it.

When she said _he could be lying_, Eragon said _he could be telling the truth_. _He's the king's dragon_, she offered, _he's the only dragon. _She raised an eyebrow at him but continued _he could be trying to force us to serve Galbatorix. _Eragon frowned at her, _but he saved our lives, and everyone else is after us for treason anyways. _Their countering and counter-attacking continued until Shruikan shifted nervously, only seeing their exchanged glances and subtle hand gestures and growing nervous. He thought his little speech was good, and the obvious submission had been a nice touch, yet there was always the possibility they'd make him leave, and in his state he might run into some trouble trying to fight them.

Finally Saphira turned her head to him and pushed at his mind, finding immediate acceptance in, _I wish to search your mind, _she stated firmly, and knowing to object meant they'd be suspicious again he let her in after a few seconds.

He hid nothing, watching her go back through the past weeks to watch as he fought the battle of Melian and before leave Uru Baen with her in the back of his thoughts. She caught a glimpse of Galbatorix and took an obvious interest in the conversation they were having. He felt her listen to them speak of the elven front late one night before she moved back even further to him training Thorn in the rain, and onto the hatching of the red egg.

His heart swelled with emotion as she watched Thorn first break out of his shell and come crawling towards Shruikan's foot. Despite himself, he began to hum happily as he did when it actually happened. She abruptly moved back farther, something about that particular memory obviously upsetting her. He directed her towards the memory of her egg resting in his claws the morning before she was taken from him and let him guide her. Something Saphira saw there triggered a connection as she recalled something about that morning from the recesses of her mind as well.

_Hatchling, you will have far more time to go through my memories later if you'd like to take your time. I have nothing to hide from you, _he whispered to her. Saphira ignored him to push back further a bit more, just enough to see another dragon before her sparkling brilliant green. At first her mental eyes deceived her but she assured herself that was in fact a dragon he had seen. He caught onto an echoing though in her mind and chuckled, _I am a hundred and 16, young one. Many more years for you to sift through when you choose to. _With that she withdrew her mind from his, her own swimming form her new knowledge. She breathed shallow and looked into her eyes, her anger all but gone. She trusted him enough to let him help her with her condition, but only for now.

_One slip up and I slit your throat, _she hissed as Eragon swung up into her saddle. She stretched her wings out, ignoring the pain, and glared as Shruikan as he mimicked her. She wasn't happy about inviting him into their lives, but she was curious.

* * *

Oh hey guys, about my updates: Track starts next week and apparently I'm doing it again this year xD Practice runs from right after school to supper (2:00-4:30) and being it's towards the end of the year I might get a little lost when it comes to time. Also, track meets are on Thursday and usually go late into the night, so those updates will happen on Wednesday or Friday instead depending on my schedule. I'll still give you two updates a week unless something drastic happens and my schedule changes, but school is my top priority =) bear with me for the next THREE MONTHS x.x

**Next Update: 3/15/12** Next Thursday.


	38. Nearly Twenty

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

Sorry this one is a day late guys, i got home really late last night and it wasn't finished.

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Three days passed before Shruikan even dared to approach Saphira and Eragon. He had spent 2/3 of it falling in and out of sleep, giving energy to Galbatorix every time he awoke. After they arrived in the oasis the pair had apparently chosen for their temporary home, Shruikan was quick to fly across the paradise and out of sight, housing himself in one of the larger caves he could find. He knew they would have many suspicions of him for many months and hoped answering their likely questions the best he could would help build some trust. He sensed the rider was more trusting than his dragon, but according to his sources they both had equally just reasons to hate the him, the Empire, and everything it stood for.

When he did exit his cave, he had little interest of speaking to them immediately and instead sought to sate his appetite. His stomach roared its need until he swallowed his first victim, and did not fully quiet until he had claimed a second, and then a third. Licking the blood away from his teeth, Shruikan looked up to where the blue dragoness watched his every movement from her ledge, her rider sitting next to her. _Oh, how I wish I knew what you were thinking, _he thought. He was on thin ice to begin with and his chances at persuading them were next to nothing, but he had sworn to try and he would.

Reaching out with his mind, he found Eragon's mind relatively at ease and connected with it, _rider, I know there are many things you wish to ask, and many things I wish to tell you as well, but I fear that ledge of yours will not house me appropriately. _Eragon withdrew his mind from Shruikan's without giving him an answer, but Shruikan saw the rider stand from his place on the ledge and disappear into his cave and knew they'd be down to talk with him soon enough.

"Rhonny, Saphria and I are leaving to talk with Shruikan, stay here and out of sight. The last thing we need is you getting eaten should a fight occur," Eragon asserted, strapping his sword to his hips tightly and adjusting the buckle. His command was meant with instant rebuff, however, and Rhonny was suddenly in his face.

"Hell no, dragon rider, I have as much right to speak with him as you. If he wanted to attack either of you he would have done it when Saphira's wings were broken, not now," Rhonny growled, walking around Eragon, but not before smacking his shoulder none to gentle. Eragon glared and rolled his eyes, busying himself with saddling Saphira. Rhonny stood off to the side, watching the black dragon below them with fascination, and Saphira found herself mimicking her behavior.

He was the third of her kind she had ever seen, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't as interested in him as she had been when she first met Glaedr. _Eragon, are you sure this is wise? _She asked her rider as he strapped himself into the saddle and Rhonny swung up in front of him. She may have been excited to meet him, but she was still extremely wary. He served the Empire after all, their number one enemy from the very beginning. Brom had said the King would stoop to any level to have them under his control, and she trusted Eragon's father over any one else she had met. So far everyone but Brom and Eragon had done her wrong or betrayed her. She knew she had many more enemies to make, but inside, she wasn't sure she wanted Shruikan to be one of them.

_Yes Saphira, he saved our lives and now offers us some answers. It would be wise, however, to take everything he says with a grain of salt, we all know dragons are notoriously good liars, _he joked, earning a chuckle from his dragon, but the truth underneath his words was clear. They couldn't trust Shruikan anymore than they could trust the King, Nasuada, or anyone else. It was all equal ground when it came to allies, unfortunately same went for foes.

Saphira launched herself off the ledge at Eragon's signal and they flew to where Shruikan sat by the lake side, Eragon holding Rhonny in place firmly with an arm around her waist. The young woman was the first to hop off Saphira's back and scrutinize the dark dragon before her, noticing he was exactly how she remembered. Maybe a few more scars in places, and his build a bit heavier, but all in all he hadn't changed in the past 16 years.

While Rhonny looked him over, Shruikan returned the favor quickly. He had smelt something foreign on Eragon's clothes when his head was tucked near the riders on their fall out of the sky, but he hadn't been able to place it until he saw the woman riding on Saphira's back. _A dwarven woman, _he noted, glancing at her distinctly square jaw and high cheek bones, _how interesting. _Using his nose, he found something else about her as well that made his eyes widen, barely noticeably as he hid his surprise within seconds. Reaching into her mind briefly, he chuckled, _a pleasure to meet you, young one. _

"We have already met, dragon, some 16 years ago," Rhonny dared to reply. Although Shruikan was curious as to what she meant, his attention was caught and held by Eragon dismounting from the saddle. He and Saphira entered Shruikan's mind together, grabbing and pulling his voice out into the air between them so Rhonny could hear everything being said as well.

_Promise us you will not try to hurt us in the Ancient Language. _Shruikan narrowed his eyes at the demand, weighing his options. It was an easy thing, of course, he hadn't been planning on hurting them anyways, but the Ancient Language and all its hidden complications worked either in your favor or against you.

_It is unwise to abuse the language of our ancestors, but very well rider. Eka weohnata néiat haina ono, onr fricai,_ _onr skulblaka, _he chanted and felt a surge of power transferred between his body and theirs. A pulse of golden energy washed over Rhonny, Eragon, and Saphira before bouncing back to Shruikan's chest. He growled, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his stomach clench and his muscles tighten. One of the downsides of the ancient language was it took life from you in order to complete the spell, and the amount of life taken was equal to the complexity of the spell. At last, Shruikan opened his eyes again and locked eyes with Eragon, _happy now, rider? _

Saphira's nerves had calmed considerably with the spell, and she allowed herself to relax enough to sit down behind Eragon, scratching one paw with another as she avoided Shruikan's eyes. _Since you already told us why you're here, why don't you tell us how exactly you found us?_

Shruikan sighed and laid himself down on the grass, getting comfortable for the story ahead. He told them about Melian and the letter from Captain Brenden's outpost, along with Trianna who told him about them deserting the Varden and the elves as well. They asked about what he wanted from them specifically, and when he replied their allegiance, Murtagh's servitude came up as well. When Eragon ran out of things to ask for the moment, Saphira took her chance.

_How did you know..? _Not finishing her question as Rhonny was right there and listening in, Shruikan assumed she meant her pregnancy and shooed her back into her mind alone.

_An elf named Blodgharm told me what the queen did out of desperation, and made me vow to help you. You are young, inexperienced in the ways of egg raising and tradition. He wanted me to find you and teach you the right way to raise your eggs if nothing more. You could be the mother of your race, young one. _At this, Saphira growled and pushed him back, furious at the idea.

_I would never mate with you or Thorn! _She snarled, resisting the urge to swipe his cheek with her claws. Where she had expected anger back, he merely gave her chilly impatience.

_I did not mean it that way and you know it. There are dozens of eggs waiting to hatch and in need of a mother to raise them. I cannot do it all by myself, and with Galbatorix's spell nearing completion I'll need your help more than ever, _her anger dropped away to be replaced by utter curiosity. _Dozens of eggs?_ She thought, hopeful.

_What spell..? _

_The King has finally found the spell needed to break them from their bonds to their nonexistent riders. Once they are released from their prison one by one, they will be in need of guardians. Dragons who can give the love and guidance needed for the hatchlings to grow into strong, healthy adults as well. Thorn is too young, but you… you're just what they need. And once a few of them are raised, they can take on their own little ones. _His eyes grew hazy with the image it painted in his mind; a perfect world, all possible because of the female before him. _Can you imagine, Saphira, a world filled with wild dragon all calling you mother and looking up to you in admiration, all honoring you as a parent of the entire race? _

When he finished whispering into her mind he lingered, staring into her eyes blankly. Saphira felt the urge to back up and fly away from the tension, but knew she had to stay. So she steeled herself, taking his words with a grain of salt as Eragon had suggested and ignoring the fact he had mentioned the existence of eggs again. _A twist of his words, nothing more, _she reminded herself.

_Yes… well… _she answered, clearing her throat and averting her eyes from his, looking back to Eragon as his cue to resume asking questions. Shruikan sighed and withdrew from her mind, instead hovering in the air between them for the conversation could continue.

Eragon's eyes fell to the ground, his voice suddenly somber, _what can you tell me of Blodgharm and the others? Did…did they make it? _His voice failed him only once, but Shruikan looked down at him sadly, wishing he could tell the young rider everything he knew. Shruikan stumbled, trying to find the right words that would reassure yet not anger any of them.

_I do not know how much you know, but if it is any consolation the last message I had received from him they were safely hiding in the depths of the Spine, _he offered, and saw Eragon's face light up with relief. He knew the Spine, he had grew up there for heaven's sake. He hoped his friends had made it to their destination safely.

_Do you know where exactly they were going? Did they mention anything about a meeting place? _Eragon pressed, his grip on his sword clenching out of enthusiasm instead of unease. Shruikan shook his head, and the rider's face fell. _You know nothing, nothing at all? _

_You know more than I on that matter Eragon. I do however, know the spell needed to scry him regardless of whether he wears wards against it or not. He gave me permission to contact him with it, but only I. I fear I cannot give it to you due to an oath, but should you wish to speak with him just ask,_ Shruikan proposed, watching Eragon let the offer sink in. He was thrill at the idea of speaking with Blogharm again of course, but doing so would mean letting the King's dragon completely envelop him mind. His hand twitched on his sword for the second time.

_He did swear not to harm us though, _he reasoned, deciding the risk wasn't high enough to dissuade him. _Thank you Shruikan, I will take you up on that. _Eragon replied, and Shruikan smiled slightly, displaying his teeth.

Rhonny, having been merely listening to their conversation instead of contributing to it, glanced between the black dragon and Eragon while they talked. She wasn't too interested in what they were talking about, _who the hell is the Blodgharm guy anyways? _But she read their body language; a trick she had learned from her father. The old dwarf had told her while their kind was honest, some were not. He had taught her to read faces and quirks like the best of them; all that she really had to do was apply the mannerisms to the possible meanings to fit the situation. She had been slightly surprised to find Shruikan looking calm, but the way his tail twitched stiffly said otherwise. His muzzle also displayed signs of tension, yet not more so than Saphira's as well.

_Jesus, it's like they don't know how to act around each other, _the half dwarf mused, looking between the two dragons. She had spent the majority of her time listening to and watching the two lizards throughout the conversation to get a feel for their quirks. Eragon was significantly easier to read; the boy was like an open book. _He'd never survive in politics, _she grinned. Eragon caught her look and raised an eyebrow when the two dragons were again in private conversation.

_Something you find amusing? _He asked innocently in her mind. She just stared at him for a moment, caught up in a thought before snapping out of it and chirping back at him.

_You look older when you do that, _she told him candidly, and watched him keep his eyebrow raised at her words. She knew he hadn't meant to repeat the action, but she giggled at him anyways. _How old is Eragon, _she asked Saphira abruptly; making sure Eragon heard her as well. Saphira paused in what she was saying to Shruikan to reply, obviously thrown off by the sudden question yet diving back into her private conversation with Shruikan again. _You're nineteen? _Rhonny asked him, cocking her head to the side.

Eragon looked back to the two dragons, hiding his face from view, _nearly twenty. _Even though his voice was a bit gruff Rhonny didn't take offense; instead she smiled at him, enjoying their conversation all the more.

_Oh yes, all the difference, dragon rider… do you think we should leave them to their conversation? _She asked rapidly, not giving him time to get mad over her reply. He glanced from Saphira to Rhonny, pondering the same idea.

_It looks like they have a lot to talk about, and I don't feel anything negative from Saphira, _he paused when his dragon said something to him quietly, and then returned to Rhonny's mind. _Yeah, she says they'll be fine. Besides, I'll feel it from her if something bad happens. _With that, Rhonny was at his side and leading him away by the hand, grinning ear to ear.

_Good, I discovered something I've wanted to show you for DAYS! _She sang, dragging him away from the two dragons. She had other reasons for removing him from the situation as well, one of them being she knew the two dragons needed to get used to each other without a human mediator around forcing them to guard their words in fear of revealing sacred secrets. "See you back at the cave Saphira! Come and see me anytime big boy," she called to Shruikan, who chuckled at her, knowing they'd be sharing a conversation or two in the future as well.

* * *

**Update on Schedule: **Track starts the 26th, I will try to pump out as many chapters in the next week for the neccessary updates, but I will most likely miss a few Dx sorry! Track meets are on Thursday and usually go late into the night, so those updates will happen on Wednesday or Friday instead depending on my schedule.

Not a super long chapter this time, but I met my 2,000 word goal! :'D See yah, my lovelies!

**Next Update: 3/19/12** Next Monday.


	39. Tension

**Updates every Mondays and Thursday**!

Sorry this one is a day late guys, i got home really late last night and it wasn't finished.

* * *

Four more days passed and the tension gradually faded. Rhonny continued to pull Eragon away from the two dragons to give them some privacy, dragging him off to her latest discovery or the nearby herd of game to spend the day tracking and hunting together. They spent more and more time together, fishing and swimming in the lake when it was too hot to wrestle on the beach; a habit they had started when Eragon figured out Rhonny was just as hardy and eager to fight as any other dwarf.

Saphira found herself joining Shruikan in conversation more often than not as it became easier for her to forget who he was. He told her stories about her parents and a wild sister of hers he had known, along with prominent wild dragons he had been friends with. It made her sad to think they were all gone, which raised the question she had not yet dared to ask, _why had the war started? _But for now, she chose to avoid any talk of the Empire or the Varden, nothing of the war or the King, and Shruikan let her lead the way.

Shruikan was pleased to finally earn her trust after five years of not knowing what kind of dragoness his egg had grown into, taking full advantage of their talks to learn things about her and offer his own knowledge in return. He allowed her to experience what he had through his memories, letting her enter his mind several times to run through some moments in his life. There was always one part he kept locked away and barred her entry, which had angered her before he explained there were some things she would have to wait to know. Shruikan let the female have free run of his mind, however, and Saphira went wild with it.

There were a few hiccups in their way towards friendship, of course, and one happened when Rhonny and Eragon were examining the tracks of an unidentified animal in the shade of the trees. Eragon crouched low to the ground and narrowed his eyes, looking for any signs of the animal. They had lost it a few minutes before and it could have heading in any direction without them knowing. Thankfully it had hard hooves that left clear prints in the soft dirt.

Rhonny held the same pose a few paces away, scrutinizing the ground for signs of their prey. She grinned, about to announce she found the trail when the forest shook with an ear splitting roar. Eragon spun, eyes widening as he stared to where the sound had come from. He could sense anger from Saphira's mind but not the reason why, so he took off at a sprint. He heard Rhonny calling after him but his mind was too focused on Saphira to decipher what she was saying.

"Eragon, wait up!" Rhonny yelled, running after him. She didn't have the strange elf like grace he did but she could navigate better than he; her reflexes were as fast, but she didn't have to think about where to place her feet. While her footing came instinctually, keeping him in sight was another problem. Sure, she could make her way out of the forest by the trail they followed earlier, but she too wanted to know what was going on with the scaled giants. _Damn it, Eragon, are you half deer or something? _She cursed him in her mind, catching a glimpse of his back before it disappeared again.

"Eragon, slowdown will you, I'm sure she's fi-" Rhonny started before her foot caught on something she didn't see and her world toppled forward. She swore, her hands rising to protect her face to no avail as she rolled down the hill, colliding with thick, gnarled roots and scraping over slabs of rock. She squeezed her eyes shut until the world stopped spinning and the roaring in her ears stopped.

She knew her brow was bleeding profusely due to the slick heat on her side of her face, and her cheek felt raw also. Her arms and shoulders screamed in pain while her legs groaned, and her back ached. Feeling the ground beneath her all too well, she tried to sit up but failed, the pulse in her head pounding too loud for her to function. She groaned, reaching a single hand up to her face and pressing against it gently, hoping to calm the pounding. "Son of a bitch," Rhonny growled, her eyes still held closed.

After Saphira shut him out Eragon stopped running. He couldn't sense the anger from her anymore, and after quickly searching out Shruikan's mind he found the answer. _I am sorry for alarming you two, Eragon, my tongue slipped and Saphira took offense. Should I find her and apologize? _The old dragon had asked him for advice, and Eragon answered as honestly as her could.

_It's better not to let her mellow in it when it comes to her pride, _he said, and felt Shruikan nod and take off to find her.

_Wait, where is the woman? _Shruikan asked, noticing Rhonny was not right next to the young rider as she normally was. Eragon's mind froze and he turned, beginning to run back the way he came.

_Shit, shit, shit, _he cursed and tore away from Shruikan's mind, focusing himself on any sight of the half dwarf. "Rhonny? Where are you?" He yelled, breathless as he searched everywhere. Continuing to yell, he ran further into the jungle towards where he had last seen her.

Rhonny glared up at the canopy with a headache forming. The bleeding from her face had stopped thankfully, but her whole body still ached too badly for her to move. "Eragon!" She managed to yelled back to him when she heard him crashing around nearby. Listening to his steps as he faced in her direction, she prayed to god he wouldn't run around her. Or, heaven forbid, run right into her. "Eragon." She croaked again, and suddenly he was at her side.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" he panted, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. Blood tinted his cheeks as he sucked in air and ran his eyes over her injuries.

"I tripped trying to keep up with you," she lurched and punched him in the shoulder, an action well worth the pain it caused. He stumbled back but returned to her side, kneeling on one knee beside her.

"Sorry," he whispered, obviously ashamed to have caused her injuries. "Let me fix it," he asserted, gently hauling her into a better position to reach the scrapes on her legs and arms. Meticulously drawing her clothes back and muttering "Waíse heill" as he went over her skin, Eragon slowly covered her body in magic as he healed his way up her body. Starting at her feet and finally reaching her face, he reined his magic back and took a moment to examine the lacerations on her cheek and brow. "Damn," he murmured, pressing his fingers to the side of her face lightly as he cupped her chin, turning her head so he could see better.

Rhonny stared at him as he worked; watching his fingers skim over her wounds and making them disappear as his hands trailed onward. She gasped a few times when the process took longer on her legs but other than that she remained silent. When he held her chin and turned her head side to side, kneeling as close to her as he could without falling on her, Rhonny looked up at him from under heavy eyelashes. Watching his lips move as he casted the healing spell again, she closed her eyes halfway to block out the strong blue light from his palm and felt the cool wash over her skin.

She parted her lips and sucked in a breath when his magic pulled the heat away from her face and erased the pain, leaving his fingers resting on unbroken skin again. She looked into his eyes and watched his gaze change from concerned to hesitant as he caught her stare and looked back at her, suddenly aware of the situation they were in.

He had kneeled close to her, only thinking about her well-being, but now the closeness brought tension and uncertainty. Her pants, ripped in various areas and torn at every seam, had been rolled up and parted so he could reach the bleeding wounds. Her shirt, unbuttoned so his magic could reach just below her collar bone, remained that way and provided a view down her front. Her hair was tousled from her fall and ran in every which direction like she had just been tossed out of the sky off the back of a dragon. Eragon swallowed thickly, his grip on her chin wavering as he glanced down from her eyes to her lips.

Rhonny exhaled slowly, knowing her breath reached his mouth. She was tempted to reach up to his face and run a hand through the beginnings of his hair, but fought down the urge. Her body was still aching and definitely not up for anything other than a long sleep at the moment. So she leaned forward slightly, disengaging his hand from her face, and kissed him politely on the cheek. "Thank you, dragon rider."

Taking this as his cue, Eragon stood and pulled her up to her feet, fighting the anticipation that still coursed through his system. He led the way back to their cave slowly, keeping himself at a relaxed pace and concentrating on the woods around him to not look at the woman walking at his side.

When they reached the cave, Rhonny immediately left Eragon on the ledge and went further in to where they usually fell asleep with Saphira's tail around them. Being as the dragon wasn't there to be her pillow-blanket combo, Rhonny snuggled into the blankets Eragon had been smart enough to bring with him when leaving the Varden and promptly closed her eyes. Eragon stood there awkwardly for a moment before he remembered his original destination and climbed back down the mountainside, heading to where he saw Shruikan and Saphira sitting next to each other.

_Is Rhonny alright? _Shruikan asked before Saphira could. He had noticed Eragon leading her up to the cave moments before and while young woman hadn't looked like she had been in any pain, her clothes had been in very bad shape.

"Huh? Oh, yeah she's alright. She was scuffed up real bad but she's better now," Eragon answered after a moment of confusion. Even though he had spent the whole journey back pushing down his racing thoughts he was still distracted. Conflicted feelings ran amuck in his mind and all he wanted to do was find somewhere to sit down and think. The cave was certainly not the place; he'd just end up staring at Rhonny's sleeping form and add to his problem even more. He thought about the hot hidden springs dotted all over the mountain side and knew he had found his sanctuary. But first, he had to figure out what had started this whole mess. "So what the hell happened between you too?"

Saphira shifted awkwardly, knowing she was to blame for any injuries Rhonny had obtained. _It was my fault, I let… I've been letting myself get too easily offended over trivial matters, _she confessed, glancing at Shruikan apologetically as her head ducked slightly. Eragon frowned up at her, having assumed as much.

"Just check on Rhonny later on, I'm sure apologizing for all the cuts she had wouldn't hurt," he stated, knowing he had to do the same when he wasn't so filled with confusing thoughts. It had been his fault as much as Saphira's, but he hoped healing her had implied he was remorseful. Shruikan raised an eyebrow at the past tense Eragon used but left it for later; he'd most likely figure it out on his own anyways.

_I will Eragon, _Saphira replied, and turned, obviously wishing to find some place a bit more secluded to continue her talk with the larger dragon. Shruikan followed her, bowing his head to Eragon as they left. Earlier misunderstanding set aside, he still wished to speak with her and continue their previous conversation. Eragon watched them go before heading the other way, eager to get away from all this drama.

* * *

**Update on Schedule: **Track starts the 26th, I will try to pump out as many chapters in the next week for the neccessary updates, but I will most likely miss a few Dx sorry! Track meets are on Thursday and usually go late into the night, so those updates will happen on Wednesday or Friday instead depending on my schedule.

Not a super long chapter this time, but I met my 2,000 word goal! 8D

**Next Update: 3/19/12** Next Monday.


	40. The Fairest

_Did you really try to mate with him..? _Shruikan asked hesitantly, hoping not to ignite her earlier anger over the topic. Saphira's wings fluttered and she glanced up at him, but she waited before answering. She had struck him when he brought up Glaedr before, her heart still tender when it came to the deceased dragon, and she wanted to calm herself before returning to the topic. She had let it slip that she had indeed tried to mate with Glaedr, and Shruikan no doubt wanted to know if anything became of her pursuit.

_Yes, I TRIED. He rejected my advances, stating it would be morally wrong to do so being that he was my master and I his pupil, _she growled, still sensitive about it. Shruikan raised his brow, trying to choose his next words carefully and failing.

_No wonder he rejected you…_ he said, nearly lost in thought, but not lost enough to not see the seething look she cast his way. Rushing to diffuse the situation, he continued, _that was not an insult to your looks, blue, but if you had seen his past partners you would have known you certainly weren't his type. _

Saphira narrowed her eyes at him and snarled, _what the hell does that mean? _She knew she was particularly defensive when it came to her looks, but she couldn't help it. With no other dragons around when she was still growing, she had no idea if she really was a beautiful dragoness which led to her having to convince herself.

_He liked other males, Saphira. _Shruikan chuckled as her face fell in shock. _I may have only known him and Oromis as acquaintances, but his tastes were quite obvious. Though you may not know, homosexuality is accepted among dragons more so than riders. _Saphira searched his eyes for any signs of deceit before looking away, mind spinning

_So it wasn't me… _She confirmed, and Shruikan grinned.

_Oh certainly not. You're one of the fairest females I've ever seen, but you were just the wrong sex for him. _He stated nonchalantly, not realizing the power of his choice of words until a few moments after. He glanced at her and found her looking to where she was leading him, trying to hide the shy smile on her face. Shruikan sped to find something else to say that would bring her min away from his accidental comment; he couldn't risk anything when she was just beginning to trust him. So he remembered his first thought on the matter and spoke it, _and even if you were, he would have crushed you._

Saphira stopped walking, stunned _...what?_ She turned her head to look at him and thought she saw heat rising to his face as it did to hers, but his dark scales hid it well. Shruikan glanced at her, somewhat nervous on speaking with her on such a topic.

_You don't actually believe dragons mate in the air, do you_? He asked bluntly, and sighed at the look on her face. _The mating flight is to INITIATE a coupling and to prove to the female she has chosen a worthy suitor. The actual reproductive act takes place in a cave or secluded field... _She looked away from him, embarrassed at her own ignorance on the matter. _Who the hell told you we mated in flight? How the hell would that even work?_ Shruikan cried incredulously, and Saphira glared at him defensively.

_HEY, it's possible! You do the whole flight part and the dive... and then you take to the air... and..._In truth she was defending herself due to her pride; it wasn't her fault no one had been around to tell her these things. To **show** her these things.

_Hold each other up as you copulate? Saphira, no male could hold up a female while mating with her. And even if one could, the position would be wrong for reproduction._ Shruikan informed her, knowing how difficult it was to carry Thorn when he had been injured even though the red dragon was less than half his size. Heaven forbid if he had been trying to do anything else should it had been a female!

_The parts wouldn't lineup..?_ Saphira confirmed his statements, not believing her own boldness on the matter. She kept her mind away from what they were really talking about, refusing to imagine it, and that was the only reason her face wasn't completely flushed.

_Uh, yeah, that's a good way of putting it_, he agreed. Unlike her, Shruikan actually had experience to base the pictures in his mind off. This made it all the worse. He took a sudden interest something to his left, craning his neck to the side as he walked to avoid looking at her. He wondered what was coursing through her own mind but was thankful they were not linked mentally and instead talking through the air; had she seen his thoughts she would've surely strike him again.

_Oh... I didn't know that_, she whispered, and he turned his head to look at her face. A deep sadness had entered her eyes. He didn't like that at all. Nudging her with his wing, he gave her a small smile of encouragement.

_Don't get down on yourself, blue, ideally you would've had several sisters and friends to practice mock flights with so when the suitor you wanted came along you could snag him with ease. It's unfair you were deprived of the practice..._She nodded but did not meet his eyes for more than a few seconds. The slight smile on his face dropped.

_Could I try... on my own? _She asked shyly. She did not like being so ignorant on something so important in her own culture, but she knew his words are true. She didn't know who to blame for it though, when she was a hatchling it had always been the empire, _but now_… She glanced up at Shruikan, who seemed to be considering her words.

_You could, but the whole flight is about reacting to each other's movements. It's a dance, one slip up and your partner might lose interest or be intimidated. Females lead the flight though, so if a male comes up to you and makes his interest known, he's bound not to care if you make a few mistakes._

Saphira stared at him for a few minutes, their walk coming to a stop in a large clearing where the trees surrounding were so large Shruikan could fit underneath their lowest branches with ease, and not enough sunlight got through their leaves to support anything but the moss on the ground. _How do I know he's interested..?_ She dared to ask after sitting down for a moment with him next to her. They both stared out to where the larger trees gave way to grass down by the lake, giving them a glistening view of the body of water.

_Hopefully you've spent some time with him before hand, but the bonding could take place afterwards as well. Pregnancy doesn't happen on the first try most of the time, so you've got time before something serious occurs... but, so you do know, he will approach you and bow, like any other time he might greet you officially._ He stated, bowing his head in demonstration. _He will try everything to get your attention, and once you give him permission he was rub up against your sides and croon at you_.

He startled her when he didn't hesitate to rub his body against hers, making the right noises, but sits down next to her. _If you welcome his offer, you will take off and lead the dance. THAT is how you know._ He stated firmly, his mind still on the contact he initiated between them.

She stared at him, wondering if that counted as him offering but brushes it off as it was purely a demonstrating. _As for the actual mating... I don't think you'd want me demonstrating that, young one_, he whispered, and she looks at him shyly, obviously embarrassed, and they grow quiet.

_Well thank you for showing me, _she answered after a few minutes of silence, and he nodded in return.

_It is good to know, _Shruikan said, looking off to the lake in the distance, _in the next years you will find many more options open to you. _He was referring to the eggs he hoped she would help him raise, and how after five years or so she will find herself as one of the most desirable female of their race. She would be in her prime, and the younger males will be vying for her attention. He didn't like the idea of her letting them have it, but he had not gotten this far without immense self-control.

_Your daughters too, should you choose to have any, will be as sought after as you, _he finished, not daring to continue. It wasn't a good idea to flood her mind with too much information at once as he was essentially proving her whole world wrong, so it was safer to give her little tidbits here and there. Heaven forbid the day he was required to bring up Glaedr again.

* * *

**Update on Schedule: **Track starts tomorrow and I have decided to take two weeks off with this story. Over that time i will be planning out chapters and writing when I can, but I've found my mind had been set on another story I'm writing and it's been getting in the way of this one. Don't worry though, the other story will be finished relatively quickly despite my busy schedule and then I'll be able to focus on this one again.

Sorry everyone.

This chapters is kind of boring because it's just conversation, but it gives you some insight into Shruikan's mindset when it comes to Saphira, and her lack of education/experience with the actual mating process of her kind despite her eggs being nearly ready to be laid.

**Next Update: 4/2/2012**


	41. Very Soon

"Seven hells, I feel like I slept on a rock," Rhonny sat up with a grimace on her face. "Oh wait," she rolled her eyes and grumbled, rubbing her back. Eragon rolled onto his back and sat up as well, yawning. The furs beneath them were too thin to be much help against the hard stone floor of the cave, and it wasn't like he could just sleep on Saphira like he used to when they were younger.

The desert nights were surprisingly cold, and this was the second morning he had woken up wrapped around Rhonny. It had been awkward the morning before, as it had only been a few days since he had nearly kissed her. They had woken up face to face two days in a row with his arms around her torso and hers tucked between them. _Not to mention our legs,_ Eragon blushed at the thought, fighting down the heat on his face before Rhonny looked back at him.

Had he known exactly where they were, he might've rubbed the kinks out of her back for her, but the idea made him too nervous for him to try. So instead he stood up and stretched, noticing Saphira had woken up and left them alone. "Where's Saphira?" he asked Rhonny like she would know, thinking aloud.

Shrugging at him, Rhonny rolled her shoulders again more slowly, groaning at the dull ache that rested there. Eragon healed the soreness in his own body before repeating the spell for hers as a common courtesy, bypassing his sword to fish something to eat out of his packs. Rhonny was at Eragon's side in an instant, startling him with her sudden appearance, and snatched a piece of fruit out of his hand. He frowned at her but found a worthy replacement, following her out onto the ledge and plopping down next to her on the sun warmed stone.

They sat in silence, picking lazily at their breakfast for a good half an hour as the sun rose higher and higher. The two looked out over the blossoming oasis as it came alive with the coming sun, flocks of birds beginning to flutter through the trees. The screeching, long tailed animals (Shruikan called them monkeys) swung from branch to branch, much like he had seen Rhonny do before, and he realized how much noise they really made as they hollered and screamed, fighting amongst themselves. Rhonny seemed to take to the animals, but Eragon found them nothing more than a nuisance.

Casting his gaze up, he spotted Shruikan and Saphira perched on a mountain ledge all the way across the oasis. The dragons were doing the same thing they were, only their meals consisted of the deer like creatures that roamed the lower fields surrounding the lake. Eragon was tempted to reach out to Saphira's mind with his own when Rhonny spoke, "what do you think they talk about?"

Her question made him pause, looking at her for a second before turning his head back to Saphira as if he could see the answer in her eyes from so far away. "Who knows. Saphira doesn't share, whatever it is," he answered finally, not knowing what else to say. He wasn't lying; he really had no idea what the two dragons talked about.

But he did think about it for a while after they both went silent again. Is their relationship as complicated as it seems? More, less? He glanced at the woman beside him, feeling a tug in his gut that sent his mind in a different direction. As complicated as ours, he questioned, realizing the dragons had to be blind not to see things had changed between him and the half dwarf.

"Do you think they like each other?" Rhonny asked, crossing one of her legs over the other and looking out away from him as she leaned back on one hand and raised the fruit to her mouth with the other. Eragon hitched a leg up to rest an arm on his knee, a habit he had been getting into lately, and stared up to the dragons towering on the mountain across from them.

"I'm sure they will be great friends," he offered, but they shared a glance and he knew she was questioning the chances of a romantic relationship. He did not, however, know if she was hinting towards them, or actually talking about the dragons still. Going out on a limb, he took another bite of his breakfast and chewed his words over before continuing. "She's friendly enough to talk to him, and curious enough to tolerate his presence, but they don't know much about each other. Hell, the circumstances on which they met were less than agreeable, but I think they have a chance. Only if he gets past his uncertainty, however," he finished the last part in a whisper.

Rhonny shifted, uncrossing her legs and turning her head to look at him. When Eragon didn't meet her eyes, she closed the small distance between them and leaned her body against his. The contact made him look down at her, shocked, but she merely looked up to where Saphira and Shruikan laid next to each other basking in the sun. "Well, they look cute together. And she likes him, that much is obvious. Whenever he builds up his confidence, she'll be waiting," she stated firmly, laying her head against his shoulder.

Eragon stared down at her, fighting back a sigh of relief. Her words confirmed a lot of theories in his mind and made his stomach tighten in a sudden warmth, yet filled him with fear. Now he could no longer use the excuse that she might not want him back; the only person he was waiting on was himself. He swallowed thickly, casting his fruit away and ignoring the squishy sounds of its descent.

Rhonny could practically hear the wheels in his head turning, and she smiled. He always over thought things, a trait she found most in humans. For dwarves things were simple, especially when it came to relationships: You wanted someone, you told them, and most of the time you got them. Had Eragon been raised with the same principles as she, they'd be rolling around on the skins in the dark of the cave already.

Jumping to her feet, Rhonny stretched and looked down at him, smiling. To make her interests even clearer, she ducked down and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "I feel like making the cave a bit more comfortable today. I have no desire to sleep on hard rock any longer, no matter how inviting your body may be," she tittered in his ear and left him speechless. "See you around dinner," she chirped, snagging her bow off the ground as she skipped away.

His face still warm where her lips had brushed his skin, Eragon sat there over thinking the things they said for another hour before Saphira swooped down from her perch. With Shruikan right behind her, the she-dragon landed by the lake. Taking this as his cue to move on with his day, Eragon headed down to meet them.

The climb went quicker than he expected and soon he was standing between the two large dragons. Saphira hummed to him happily and Shruikan bowed his head in greeting. Eragon smiled at them both, "good morning, great ones," he joked.

Shruikan rumbled with a bit of laughter, _and good morning to you, young one. I trust your breakfast was exceptional,_ he teased knowingly with a glint in his eyes. It then occurred to Eragon that the dragons must have seen Rhonny kiss him, and he felt the heat rush to his face.

_Nothing to be ashamed about little one, we've been waiting for something to happen between you two for a while now._ Saphira assured, but her words did not calm him. Eragon instead resisted the urge to glare at her and march off.

"Lovely," he muttered, casting his eyes elsewhere to avoid theirs. Shruikan chuckled but knew it was time to move the conversation onto something more important. He butted his head against Saphira's side, nudging her towards what they had been talking about before the humans had woken up.

Saphira practically jumped, obviously nervous about the topic, but he gently urged her towards it again, giving her a soft look. She nodded slightly, knowing what she had to do, but the idea still shook her. _Eragon, I must build a nest today._ Saphira wasn't scared about telling him, per say, but admitting this out loud was frightening; she was finally acknowledging the fact that she would soon be a mother.

Eragon's eyes widened with surprise at the news, "so soon?" He had planned on relaxing and maybe practicing his magic a bit, but he got from Saphira's mind she wanted him to join her in gathering the necessary materials. He looked between Shruikan and his dragon, wondering if the male would be joining them as well. Saphira nodded slightly, and Eragon felt himself grin. "Alright then, when do we get started?"

He was trying to be supportive of her, as he could feel the inner anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach. Parenthood was a big step, it changed anyone's life. With his mind circling around the idea of children he thought back to Rhonny, wondering if she wanted children. Quickly swinging back to give Saphira his full attention, Eragon leapt onto her back and hung on to one of her spikes.

The process of stripping moss from the shadows and cutting grass from the fields only took as long as it did because Eragon had to wait for Saphira to approve everything he picked out. Then he would throw it in a pile where Shruikan and Saphira could land easily and take loads of it to the cave. Saphira sometimes stuck around to chose some things on her own, and Shruikan helped by suggesting certain components as well.

All in all, it took them a good few hours to collect all the things Saphira requested and fly them back to where she could assemble them the way she wanted. In the end, her nest looked so comfy Eragon wanted to sleep in it. It could hold him too, but only if he curled in a ball by tucking his knees to his chest. Saphira could fully wrap her forelegs around the whole thing, which made her happy.  
Shruikan congratulated her on completing the next big step, but leaves relatively soon after they were done. Surprisingly, Saphira hummed at him and pressed her head to his neck as a small gesture of thanks. He bowed to her respectively and fell away from the ledge where he had perched, not daring to enter their makeshift home.

Not long after, Rhonny came with a pile of animal skins for Eragon to clean up with magic. She threw them down by his feet, still reeking of the animals that used to where them. "I expect them to be spotless," she sang, unslinging her bow off her shoulder and laying her quiver next to it. She stretched and brushed her hair away from her face, sitting down in the cool of the cave with a sigh.  
Rhonny leaned up against the cave wall, sipping out of her water skin slowly. "That's a nice nest you got there hun," she complimented Saphira, who purred happily. The end of her tail twitched, and the half dwarf locked that mannerism away for future reference. "When are you due?"

_Soon, very soon,_ Saphira answered, knowing the nest had given away her pregnancy to the woman. She wasn't as paranoid about keeping it a secret anymore, and she liked Rhonny. The woman smiled at her, tipping her head back to drink some more of her water.

"Why don't we let Shruikan stay in the cave with us?" Rhonny asked, staring at her water skin like it was foreign to her. Eragon cut off his magic, leaving one of the skins half cleaned, and looked up at her. Saphira looked between Eragon, Rhonny, and outside the cave to where she knew Shruikan was laying in his own cave.

"Lack of space, I don't think the big guy would fit in here with us," Eragon tried, as it was partially true, but he didn't know if he wanted the King's dragon sleeping with them, no matter how nice he was.

"We could expand the cavern, well, you could. I know magicians can bend rock, so why not? He's no threat to us anymore, and the poor guy's out there all alone. It must get lonely with no one around to talk to before he falls asleep... No one to wake up next to either," she added the last part with a soft voice, taking another swig of water.

Saphira frowned, understanding her logic, and abruptly stood. Eragon was about to ask where she was going but they already knew, and when she dove off the ledge and headed to Shruikan's cave, Rhonny grinned at him. Eragon stared back. "I win."

"I wasn't aware we were competing," he replied, going back to his work. Rhonny let it go and stood, beginning to arrange the cleaned furs on the floor where they slept to make their bed comfier. She also piled the leftover grass that Saphira hadn't used for her nest underneath it all, giving them a bit of extra padding.

Eragon watched her work, but said nothing, eyes following her around the cave. He stood, gathering his energy to begin the process of expanding the room around them to fit a second larger dragon.

Landing on the ledge of Shruikan's cave, Saphira shook herself and tucked her wings into her back. Shruikan? She called out, swinging her head side to side in search of him. The one bad thing about his dark scales was she lost him so easily in the shadows. His hide didn't shine like hers, especially not with the sun waning in the sky outside. Unlike her own cave, she could fit in here with him next to her. The idea for the three of them to just move in with him crossed her mind, but they were all too used to their current cave to move and be happy about it.

Shruikan slithered out of the dark, letting the soft light hit his head and neck but no more, shoulders lost in the shadows. Yes? He inquired sleepily, mouth parting with a giant yawn. He didn't know why he was so tired, but he assumed it was just Galbatorix borrowing more of his energy to aide the Northern front.

_I just thought you might like to join us... In our cave,_ he looked her up and down, not understanding this part of the plan. He wondered what brought on this idea, so he asked. _Oh, um. Rhonny wanted to invite you to stay with us, and with you being the only one who has a clue about eggs and mine being so close to being laid, it made sense... I guess,_ she answered, and Shruikan nodded.

_Very well, but I must warn you, I take up more space than you'd think,_ he commented, and Saphira's tail twitched with amusement.

_Eragon is already working on expanding the cavern,_ she assured him, turning herself around carefully and leading him out onto the ledge. They stood there for a moment, marveling at the view. Saphira sighed contently, feeling the warmth of the sun beginning to fade as the star fell towards the horizon and the sky tinged itself pink.

Shruikan landed behind her on the ledge in front of their cave, digging into the edge with his back claws when gravity threatened to fight him. He strained his body around, noting their entrance was far smaller than the one to his old cave, and padded into the cavern.  
Rhonny grins at him, proud of herself, before moving the bed furs more towards the middle of the cave, leaving more room on the left side for Shruikan to turn himself around and lay down across from Saphira. She assumed Saphira wasn't comfortable with sleeping right next to the older dragon, and she had no issues with sleeping between them.

As the sky grew darker and darker, the conversation between her and the black dragon drifted off as they both grew tired. Rhonny bid him goodnight and slip down next to Eragon, not ashamed of herself when she snuggled right up next to him. Pulling the blankets up over her legs, she closed her eyes just as the world tinted blue when Saphira placed her wing over them.

Shruikan watched the rider and dwarf curl up next to each other and smiled softly, sleepy mind registering how much he liked the idea of them together. At the thought of potential romance, he flicked his gaze up to Saphira. She had her head curled around her front just enough to keep out it out of the weather yet still have a view of the outside world should she open her eyes.

She made him smile, though she did not know it. Over the past week or so he had grown to realize she was a lot like her mother had been: vain, sharp tongued, and extremely proud. But, he reasoned, if anyone had any right to that type of behavior, it would be her. She was beautiful, yet Shruikan hadn't found the right wording, nor the right time, to tell her so without fear of instant rebuff.

Sighing, and bypassing the fleeting idea of placing his wing over her, Shruikan turned his own head to face the cave entrance and closed his eyes. They had an eventful few days coming up once her contractions began the next day or the day after that. He had to keep a close eye on her, and somehow explain to her that he would be hunting for her to avoid any risk of harm coming to the eggs inside her, as was tradition.

* * *

**Update on Schedule: **With track going on I will be bumping the Thursday updates to Friday, meaning new chapters will come right before and after the weekend - Monday and Friday. I'm happy I took a little time off to work on plot, because it worked out pretty well. I now have a lot of chapters set up, and I'm starting to cover some questions I made you guys ask in the beginning. If you can think of any that haven't been covered (especially new readers who just read the beginning chapters and want to know what happened to someone/some idea) please don't be afraid to remind me in your review. I find myself reading old chapters and suddenly remembering things I wanted to follow up on, and haven't yet xD Very weird, I assure you.

I'm trying to work on making Saphira and Shruikan less human-ish and give them more animal like behaviors. They may have gotten some things from their riders (smiling for one, I've used it with them a lot) but dragons are still dragons. Thank you _Mordris_ for that tip :)

**Next Update: 4/9/2012**


	42. A Bit of Advice

**Uh oh guys, based on some of the chapters I'm planning out I have to change the rating to Mature! _D: Oh noes!_ Or_ ;D oh yeah!  
_**

But in all seriousness, if anyone had read Game of Thrones and the rest of that series who know how tame the Inheritance Cycle really is xD **I'm sorry but there are such things as prostitutes in this time period, and people do (should be) have(ing) sex with each other... A lot.** If anyone is too young for such material you should stop reading this story, because as this story starts coming together, things are going to get sexual...** _Very sexual._  
**

* * *

It had been a while since he had pulled his sword from its sheath. So long it already felt foreign in his grip. Eragon frowned, clenching and un-clenching his hand around the hilt to remind himself how to hold it. It unnerved him how just a few months of no practice were throwing off his mind so much; it was like his sword was no longer his.

Swinging Brisingr in a wide arc, Eragon flicked his wrist to continue the hack and slash movement. The action stretched old muscles and activated a part of his mind, and before he knew it he was fighting an invisible enemy.

In a matter of minutes he had broken a sweat, and after a few hours his arms grew sore, his breathing ragged, and his throat dry. He smiled, enjoying the pleasant ache of his muscles. Though he did not enjoy war, he liked using his hands, and the sword provided him with a good hobby. It was a useful skill to learn as well, as there would come a time when his magic would fail him and his sword would not.

For now, he simply sheathed the long, blue blade and stripped his shirt off, carrying both in his hands as he walked. Eragon had one particular hot spring in mind, one that would be perfect for relaxing his body, and nothing else was really on his mind. He had stumbled upon the place once while walking, and assuming this was what Rhonny had meant when she mentioned the boiling pools, he hopped in.

It was even hotter than he had remembered when he dipped his fingers in. Looking around one last time, Eragon removed his britches and climbed in before he could be interrupted. The heat soothed his muscles in minutes. He tipped his head back with a sigh, closing his eyes as he let himself soak. Mind foggy and breath slow, it occurred to him slowly he was falling asleep.

"Fancy meeting you here," Rhonny piped off to his left. Eragon jumped awake and magic was coursing to his hand before he even opened his eyes and saw her. She stared at his hand as his magic pulsed with every heave of his chest, eyes wide. She hadn't expected him to be so startled, and she still wasn't used to his magic even after seeing him use it so many times.

"Seven hells," he breathed, closing his hand into a fist and cutting off the magic before it could drain him of energy even more. The instinctive spell hadn't taxed him enough to tire him, but magic always took energy from the user, and he had to lean back again from the sudden strain.

Rhonny stepped closer, making him look back to her, and he dunked his hands under the water. He didn't know why but he always felt nervous when using magic around her. It didn't make sense, he had never been shy about his abilities when accompanied by those who did not share his gift.

Even so, he sought a distraction. When Rhonny leaned her elbows on the edge of the pool, his mind swung from his magic to the fact he was naked and she was only a few feet away. His face heated up, and he cursed himself, knowing it was something a young boy would do. Rhonny just grinned at him, "enjoying your bath, dragon rider?" she teased, swirling her fingers lazily in the bubbling water in front of her.

"I was," he muttered, wondering if she knew how nervous she made him. How can she be so calm with this? He asked himself, before he remembered he knew practically nothing about her. For all he knew, dwarves were perfectly okay with public nudity, so why would his body be any different than another mans?

"Oh calm down and close your eyes," she commanded, and he did so quickly, asking why in the process. She grinned at him and reached down to the hem of her shirt, whipping it off, "because I'm joining you, silly." This made him squeeze his eyes shut even tighter, face burning.

Hearing her slip into the water with him, Eragon resisted the urge to open his eyes until she gave him the okay. "Eragon," she chuckled, slipping under until the water covered her bare chest. He opened his eyes only to close them again, still flushed. "Dwarves are not as shy as humans," she clarified, and he slowly opened his eyes again, trying to ignore her bare shoulders.

Thanking all the gods he knew of for the hot water to hide his problem, Eragon sunk in lower until his neck disappeared. He felt like a boy again, yearning for a toy he couldn't afford. He noticed the grin on her face and knew she found his embarrassment amusing. He flushed an even deeper shade of red.

"You don't have to be shy, dragon rider. I am not a lady," she told him, and just as he was about to respond she continued, "I know what is between a man's legs."

Eragon choked on his words and looked away from her, going as far as turning his head as far as he could in opposite direction. "Gods Rhonny," he mumbled, and knew she was grinning at him again. He knew what she wanted him to do, but he couldn't bring himself to try anything, no matter how much he wanted to. It was just the way he was raised; he would not bed her until he married her. Eragon knew that might never happen, but he forced himself to stay the feelings of lust and wished she would do so as well.

"Do you know find me appealing enough?" She tried, evoking a response in him. He whipped his head around to look at her, obviously terrified she would even think such a thing.

"Seven hells Rhonny, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, you must believe that," he rasped, closing the distance between them to hold her face in his hands, but he did nothing but continue speaking. "But the world is complicated - I am complicated. I'd rather wait to see where I'm going before dragging you along with me." He stared into her eyes, not sure if he wanted to hear her response.

"No one said anything about dragging," she joked, and he grinned at her, cupping her chin and kissing her. It was a heat of the moment idea, and he fought to keep it simple. It was his way of promising her, the best way he could. _Gods,_ he growled to himself. He wanted her more than anything, but he didn't want to start here. Not now.

"First I have to figure this mess out, then I'm going to marry you," he declared, leaving no room for argument on her part. She grinned at him, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around his neck knowing it would make him nervous. He seemed to be on a roll though, the twisting in his stomach urging him on, "marry you good and proper. Then you'll be all mine, mine alone, and I'll never let you leave, no matter how hard you try." Eragon grinned devilishly, a rare look on him, and he kissed her lips again.

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The next day waking up wrapped up with her wasn't awkward at all, and Rhonny grinned at him before kissing his nose and rolling away from him. She was off to spend the day alone again, but she promised to be back in time to share a midday meal with him. Eragon was reluctant to let her go, but his heart jumped when she squeezed his hand, reminding him she wouldn't be far off.

Making his way down to where Shruikan and Saphira sat, his cheerful whistling stopped as soon as he felt Saphira's mood. "Is something wrong?" he asked, worried. Saphira looked down to him, wishing him good morning, but did not give him an answer.

_Saphira wishes to go through my mind to speak with Blodgharm, do you have any objections, rider?_ Shruikan explained as Eragon stopped in front of them. It seemed Saphira wanted a second opinion on the Empire from someone other than the King's dragons himself. Eragon knew it was because she grew nervous with her eggs so close to being laid; she didn't want to put them in any danger.

"Contacting Blodgharm is an excellent idea," Eragon asserted, and Saphira's tail twitched happily. Shruikan bowed his head and took a minute to establish the link between his mind and the elf, feeling the strain on his body because of the long distance.

_Blodgharm?_ Saphira tried, and Eragon went into her mind to hear the conversation for himself. Blodgharm was more his friend than Saphira's, and he missed the elf more than he realized. It took a moment before they heard a response, and Saphira continued after they confirmed the elf could hear them. _What is your advice towards us flying to the capital and working with Galbatorix? Is what Shruikan says about the elves true, are they really the enemy?_

_Good morning to you too, great blue one,_ Blodgharm offered, gathering his thoughts as Saphira waited patiently. _I suggest you do what you think is necessary. Galbatorix needs you, and I sense you need him. You're young are not safe from the queen without him, and you know it. Frankly I don't see why you even felt the need to ask my advice. You already know your answer._

Eragon grinned, now remembering how elves could be. In all, he hadn't really told Saphira to do anything, and he was right when he said she had no real need to contact him about it. _He's right you know,_ Eragon told his dragon, and Saphira sighed.

_I know, I was just hoping for a bit of advice... this is all so sudden, you know?_ Saphira answered, ducking her head to her chest. Shruikan rumbled but said nothing so as not to interrupt the connection with Blodgharm.

_If it's advice you seek, speak to the dragon in front of you, young one. He does not lie to you, of that I am certain, and he knows more about Galbatorix than anyone,_ Blodgharm suggested, and Saphira flicked her eyes up to Shruikan, who held her gaze. _He's a cranky brute,_ Blodgharm started, and Shruikan growled, _but he's smart._ Shruikan rolled his eyes, looking away from Saphira and Eragon to admire the sun.

Eragon crossed his arms, _then is it settled? You've made up your mind, yes?_ He asked her, and Saphira nodded. _Good. Blodgharm, when will you be joining us again? Where is Slenvi? I do miss him._ Eragon admitted, and felt the elf's attention shift to him.

_Slenvi is busy, but I will give him your regards. As for this talk of joining you, I'm afraid it will have to wait a while longer, Eragon. The Empire is a dangerous place for elves. At the moment we hide safely in the Spine, but as soon as the spell is complete we will meet up with you at the capital. I have business to discus with Galbatorix anyways._ With that, Blodgharm said his goodbyes and cut the connection, leaving Eragon's mind reeling.

"Blodgharm has allied with you and Galbatorix?" Eragon asked Shruikan, who nodded slowly, still a bit drained from the link.

_Aye, we made an agreement. I was too find you and keep you safe, and in return they would reveal the secrets of the Elven Kingdom. They are our greatest assets as of right now, other than you and Saphira. As soon as they produce a spell that will change their appearances to human for the amount of time needed to travel to Uru Baen, they will stay at the castle with us. That is, if you choose the join the Empire instead of casting out on your own._

Saphira nodded, her mind already made up, and Eragon vowed to follow her no matter the path she chose. Blodgharm's words merely sealed the deal. As she was about to answer Shruikan and tell him their decision, pain erupted in her stomach suddenly. She abruptly roared as the pain flared again.

Shruikan snapped his eyes to Eragon. _Rider, find Rhonny and bring her to the cave. Saphira's time has come,_ he warned. Standing and shooting into the air. He hovered over Saphira long enough to grab onto her stomach, wrapping his forearms around her sides, and lifted her into the air. Getting her to the cave was the the easy part, getting her to calm down and concentrate enough to push her eggs out would prove to be more difficult.

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**Boring romance is boring!** I must admit I like giving Eragon this kind of mindset because Rhonny's the complete opposite. _Hehe, Eragon's a noob._ But I countered all the love by making the second half serious, so it's all good.

I'm starting to cover some questions I made you guys ask in the beginning. If you can think of any that haven't been covered please don't be afraid to remind me in your review.

Guess what, I've finally covered Murtagh's forever alone issue! It's not love, but it's close enough xD

**Next Update: 4/13/2012**


	43. Queen of the Dragons

**Uh oh guys, based on some of the chapters I've planned out I have to change the rating to Mature! _D: Oh noes!_ Or_ ;D oh yeah!  
_**

In a recent anonymous review, some asked: he can be with Saph in your story? I think it was supposed to be who, so: **Who can be with Saphira in your story?** The answer to this is **anyone**; nothing is set in stone in my mind. I put a poll up on the my profile I would appreciate you all taking a look at and answering. All the available options are ones I've been toying with for a while, and I kinda of want to see your opinions on the matter. Any other possibilities I don't have feel free to review with! :D

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After an hour of hoarse cry inducing, hurt filled, and face scrunching labor, Saphira lay on the floor of the cave, exhausted. Shruikan had left quickly after her last egg had been laid to fetch her a quick meal to help her regain her strength. Saphira thanked him quietly but he hushed her, bringing her attention back to the two glistening eggs wrapped safely in the crooks of her arms.

Craning his neck down, he silently asked for her permission to sniff her new young. With a slight bow of her head the consent was giving, and Shruikan lowered his nose to the eggs carefully. The first made his tail twitch proudly.

_A healthy female,_Shruikan crooned, and watched Saphira's face light up in surprise. They both looked back down the small egg, oval shaped and smooth and light greyish green. It was the color of sea foam, with speckles of white scattered over the surface. Saphira's tail visibly wagged, scrapping the bottom of the cave with the scales of her tail.

On the inside, through his pride and excitement towards the first egg, lay a dreadful worry. Females bodies usually only produced one egg at a time, and he knew since this one was in such a perfect state, the second would most likely not be.

His fears were confirmed when he swept his nose over the second egg, this one a male. He could smell the acrid scent of the baby's body inside, already rotting. He sensed Saphira could smell it as well. He lowered his head to the ground, painfully aware of her growing sadness. _I am sorry, Saphira, but this one... Your body could not handle the strain of a second egg,_he explained as softly as he could.

Saphira whined, nudging the rotting egg away from her healthy one as if it might poison her daughter resting inside and take her away as well. Shruikan knew what she was asking him to do, as she could not handle the idea of eating the dead egg to compensate for the birth. It was natural for a grieving mother to eat her dead young as a way to find some kind of closure and then move on, but Saphira had been raised amongst humans so the idea horrified her.

Shruikan wrapped his paw around the egg and pulled it away from her, concealing it from her sight. He bowed his head and backed away from her until he was on the ledge then flared his wings and fell back, diving away from the cave and finally taking to the air. It was his job to get rid of the rotten egg, and he planned on throwing it to the carrion birds so she would never have to see it again.

The deer Shruikan had brought her lay by the entrance of the cavern, waiting for Saphira to eat it when she was ready. Eragon stepped in, casting Saphira a wide smile, and inches closer carefully. Shruikan had warned him about motherly instincts, and Eragon had not intention of getting swiped at anytime soon. "She's going to be beautiful," he offered, gesturing the egg nestled in her paws.

Saphira hummed at the idea and licked the shell of her egg lovingly, _I hope so,_she answered, nodding when he came closer. She felt no need to protect her egg from him, he was practically family anyways. He picked up on the thought and grinned at her as Rhonny poked her head in the entrance of the cave and smiled at her as well.

"So I hear we'll be hearing the pitter patter of tiny paws sometime soon?" Rhonny joked, and Saphira flashed her a toothy smile. Rhonny giggled and snuck into the cave, careful not to get too close. Saphira actually liked Rhonny, but she knew it was safer for the half dwarf to keep a bit of distance from her eggs just in case she goes into momma dragon mode.

Rhonny was doing the best she could to stay out of Saphira's way and vowed to help whenever she could, so when Shruikan landed behind them and proceeded to tell Saphira they had serious things to talk about, she promptly grabbed Eragon's hand and dragged him out of the cave.

To silence his confused protests, she gave him a quick kiss to the lips just outside the cave and out of sight. She grinned up at him, and Eragon frowned down her. She kept her face close to his and whispered, "they need time to talk. Alone." His eyebrows lifted as his confusion did, and he returned her grip around his hand with sudden ardor. She smiled at him and they started down a path leading away from the cave to give the two dragons some privacy, and hopefully find some seclusion for themselves as well.

When Saphira felt Eragon close his link with her, she sighed and her head dropped to the floor of the cave. She was exhausted, and her stomach rumbled lowly. Shruikan pushed the carcass towards her, motioning for her to sate her hunger. _It will help you feel better,_he pressed, and she caved, ripping into the dead deer.

Shruikan waited until she was finished eating and regaining her strength, laying down next to her on the other side of the cave and looking out over the oasis. He glanced over to her as she licked the blood off of her lips and turned her head to look at him, giving him her full attention.

Shruikan cleared his throat, _how much do you know about the growth cycle of our young, Saphira?_He asked calmly, knowing her training with the elves probably hadn't focused on motherhood. It saddened him, knowing it was his fault for her abnormal upraising. She never had time to enjoy her youth being constantly on the run and then fighting against the Empire. Thankfully after so many years of fighting, it seemed the Empire was finally heading towards an era of peace once they removed the Varden from the equation and pushed the elves back into their forests once again.

_Not much at all,_Saphira admitted softly, and Shruikan nodded, expecting as much. Thankfully, he had received a full education before the the war started one hundred years ago and knew all there was to know when it came to raising young. He had raised Thorn, and another egg before that. Yet he knew he was lacking when it came to the female component with dragons. There were some things female hatchlings had to learn from their mothers, and he feared Saphira had no idea what they were.

_No matter, I can tell you all you need to know. It will take a month or two before the hatchling inside is ready to come out, but I suggest you come up with a name for your daughter as soon as possible. Naming her and speaking to her while she is developing inside her shell will help you two bond and her mind grow. Tell her as many stories you can think up, real or fake, young dragon's crave knowledge,_Shruikan instructed, stopping to let her soak it all in. Too much information at once wasn't good for anyone.

Her mind racing, Saphira frowned, wondering if she was at a disadvantage since she was raised away from dragons purely when it came to that type of pre-hatch learning process. Her mind veered towards her daughter, instantly not wanting it to be the same for her. _She needs a good name, any suggestions?_

Shruikan looked down to the egg, regarding it with calculating interest for a moment. _How does Virieas sound?_ He offered after shifting through all the names he had once graced with a flick of his tongue. Saphira perked up, obviously intrigued. _She was a dragon I used to know, very powerful and beautiful._

_I like it... Who was she?_Saphira inquired further, and Shruikan paused, debating on whether it was safe to tell her.

_My father's mother. She was old, and quite wise, and she raised me when my father refused to._Saphira's eyes widened, everything she knew about Shruikan bent backward. She had been told he had been taken away by Galbatorix as a hatchling.

_Rider's dragons weren't traditionally raised by their parents, were they?_She questioned, confused. Shruikan frowned at her.

_What? No, of course not Saphira. I was born a wild dragon, my father-..._ He cut himself off, knowing the conversation was trailing into dangerous territory. Yet he felt the need to make one more thing clear. _My decision to join Galbatorix was just that, my decision. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. _

Saphira looked away from him, knowing by his tone of voice she wasn't going to get much more out of him on that particular matter. Not for a while at least. Looking up to him, she knew she needed to know just one thing. Shruikan stood and started to walk out the cave, heading off to get her something important. She took her last chance before he was off the topic completely. _Who was your father?_

Shruikan stared out the cave, wings ruffling at his sides. The end of this tail twitched with energy, and Saphira wondered why the conversation was so uncomfortable for him. He obviously had trouble with his family, but she couldn't guess how deep. Shruikan took another step towards the ledge,_ Eridor,_ he stated simply, like she should know merely by his name alone, his voice raw.

Saphira was left puzzled as he dropped off the ledge with the unspoken promise to return shortly. Looking down at the egg in her arms, she whispered to her daughter, _Virieas._

Shruikan returned after composing himself and fetching what he wanted to give her. _Saphira, I want to give you something._ He whispered, stepping forward and outstretching his paw, hiding her gift from view. Saphira craned her neck up with interest and watched with wide, curious eyes as he slowly opened his paw. _You need this. Wild dragons grouped in two-three mated pairs that nested, laid, and raised their young together. Your egg won't hatch without another egg._

Saphira gasped, staring down at the egg he held. Purple with wisps of brown and tan swirling over it's shell, Saphira immediately smelt this one was female as well. She flicked her gaze up to Shruikan face, looking away from the egg. He nodded encouragingly, motioning for her to take it and place it next to her own egg. Astonished, she accepted it from his open palm slowly, glancing between her daughter, the new egg, and Shruikan.

She was astonished, and her face showed it. She had reason to, though, _I thought the only egg left was female..._She whispered back at him, and he exhaled through his nose sharply, amused with her.

_I told you before, Saphira, there are dozens of eggs waiting to be free in Uru Baen. I'm hoping either your daughter or this egg will choose Thorn as a mate so they can help raise orphaned eggs as well_, Shruikan explained again.

_But why this one?_Saphira asked, staring down at her two eggs, knowing Shruikan wanted her to raise them both as sisters. Her instincts to protect the younglings inside overpowered most of her astonishment. The willingness to adopt was one of the rare attributes of the dragon race; few other species held the same compassion to young that wasn't their own. This willingness stemmed off the fact dragon could only produce one egg at a time, so every egg was a miracle. Adults who found orphaned eggs were quick to raise them right, knowing it was for the good of their entire race as well as the young inside.

_She was the first we freed from the rider spell,_ he explained, but Saphira sensed there was something else as well. She gave him a look that pushed him on, and Shruikan realized with a sigh he would have to reveal a bit more again today. Dropping her gaze and growing very quiet, he whispered again. _She is the only surviving egg of Jarnunvosk... Galbatorix's first dragon. He.. he gave it to you as a token of faith... it is the only thing of her he has left._

Shocked, Saphira stared at him until he glanced up at her. She knew very little of the world before the Rider War, she knew this, but now she wanted to know everything. She sensed now was not the time, however, and focused back onto the two eggs in her arms. _So if I take this egg, both of them will hatch?_

_Yes, it is the only way. Safety in numbers, yes?_ He tried, watching her pull the two eggs close, nodding in understanding. He could tell she didn't know what to think, so he took the time to thank her for taking the egg in. Shruikan wanted her to have a mother, yet hoped he could be in her life as well as Saphira's daughters. If all worked out the way he wanted and planned, it would be a good way to prove himself to Saphira. Females were often swayed by displays of good parenting, it seemed to spark something in their minds and instincts. _It will be a slow process, as a large fluctuation in hatchling will not do, so we can only raise a few at a time. As they grow older and mature, they can take on their own orphaned eggs, and when they're old enough, even produce their own._

_It all starts with me? Us?_ Saphira asked, and Shruikan nodded at her. She glanced down at her two eggs, suddenly nervous. Yet her pride swelled in her chest. _My daughters,_She whispered to them, and missed the overjoyed look that passed over Shruikan's face.

_It all starts with us,_he repeated, watching the gears in her head turning. When Saphira looked back up to him, her eyes held a fierce determination.

_Then we should get started,_she asserted, and Shruikan's eyes widened. His wings flapped lightly, displaying his anticipation for what was to come, and promptly began planning with her. The agreed upon plan was to leave within the week, as her eggs will not hatch for another few weeks. Shruikan assured her that if they timed it right, she could be well settled into her new home before they hatch, but only if they leave soon.

_Am I really Queen of the Dragons now?_ Saphira asked him, and Shruikan backed up enough to formally bow his head to the ground to answer her question. She grinned broadly, but another question crossed her mind, one that made her shift nervously. _Who is the King of the Dragons then?_

At this, Shruikan flicked his eyes up to her, head still lowered to the ground. _Whoever you chose, my queen._ Saphira's tail twitched wildly, and she regarded him with a zeal like the first time they had talked alone, walking through the forest together. _May as well keep my options open, right?_

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**Finally the part we've been waiting for! **Dear lord, it took me 43 chapters to finally write it! xD Haha This is a big turning point, sorry it's a day late. I wanted to to be perfect, ya' know? Either way, the setting's gonna change now, since they will be heading to the capital and leaving the little oasis behind.

And guess what guys? **Murtagh and Thorn will be back in the chapters shortly!** Galbatorix too, of course, but I haven't had the Red dragon and rider mentioned in a while, so I thought that might more people happy :D You wouldn't believe how many chapters I have planned out, and the twists I have for you! Hehehe. See you monday!

OH WAIT, just a heads up: My nine day vacation starts today, so I hope to be writing a bit more thank usual! 8D weew!

**Next Update: 4/16/2012**


	44. Mad

**Rating soon to change to M. Very soon. I have six more chapters planned out (this might change, my chapters often do) before I'll need to. It will change before I post the chapter, mind you, so you'll know. Is everyone okay with this? I don't have any small children reading, do I? (God I hope not xD) **

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Packing up was the easy part, convincing the two humans to say goodbye to their makeshift home, was not. Even Saphira was none to keen on leaving, even if it was her decision to go. The she dragon crooned softly as they swept the cave one last time for anything they might have missed. Her eggs were tucked safely into Eragon's packs, wrapped up in thick furs for warmth and protection during the long flight to come.

After a brief discussion over their route and planned stops, they came to a decision. They would head south-west until they hit the edge of the desert (obviously) but from there Shruikan promised to take them around any human towns and such, keeping their arrival hidden until they were ready to enter Uru Baen itself. Shruikan told them he would have to leave them for a few days to pick someone up from Melian after he got them situated, but he would return to guide them again in a small amount of time.

Rhonny decided she wished to ride on Shruikan purely to even out the conversation between them all, along with distribute the weight the dragons had to carry. Shruikan insisted on carrying two-thirds of it all due to his size and the recent strain on Saphira's body from the eggs, and Saphira held no objections.

Before she climbed onto Shruikan's back, new leather saddle freshly made with the hide of a deer, Rhonny snuck a quick kiss to Eragon's cheek. He grinned at her and almost didn't want to let her go, but if they clung to each other much longer the dragon's were bound to notice something.

It was silly of them to try and hide their relationship, especially with Eragon's unbreakable connection to Saphira, but sneaking around made it all the more thrilling. His pulse thrummed whenever Rhonny placed a kiss on his lips in the shadow of the cave every morning, and his skin burned where she brushed her hands whenever the two dragons turned their backs.

Shruikan pretended not to notice the two humans spare each other flirty glances as he landed, hiding his snort on the matter. They acted like yearlings experiencing their first puppy love and he knew it would not due to ruin their little game of "hide and sneak kisses". If anything, he was happy for the two of them; for the past few weeks something had changed between the rider and half-dwarf, making their meetings awkward and tight lipped.

But now the tension had cleared only to be placed by a new kind of frustration. The scent of their slight arousals filled his nostrils, distracting him, and the pheromones in the air confused him. Among wild dragons, such pheromones were only released in the beginning of mating season when males tried to attract the attention of females and vice versa, so when Eragon and Rhonny first came around after spending the day together doing god knows what, covered in the smells Shruikan associated with pairs preparing to mate, he had to fight his instincts down.

_Dragon mating season does not occur anytime soon anyways,_Shruikan reasoned, nearly growling at the thought as Rhonny climbed onto his back and tied herself to the saddle with Eragon's assistance. The half dwarf frowned at his discomfort, noticing the slight rumble of his giant form as she waited for Eragon to strap himself in. Saphira regarded him with curiosity as well, raising her brow questioningly. He brushed them both off, unfurling his wings and taking to the sky with Saphira right behind him.

He would lead them all the way to the edge of the deserts, then they would figure out where the young rider, his dragon, and her eggs wanted to go from there. Since it had already been established they wish to avoid any civilization for the time being, Shruikan fought to remember if there were any small towns where they would end up (somewhere between Furnost and Uru Baen).

After taking a few minutes to admire their oasis from afar one last time, and vowing to return eventually, Shruikan spun them around and headed in the right direction. For the first day of their travels the group stayed relatively quiet (although Shruikan had this sinking realization that they might just not be including them in their conversation) and into the night they flew in silence with Rhonny slowly dozing off and Eragon quick to follow.

At dawn the next morning Shruikan felt Rhonny awaken and rummage through her packs for a light snack. It was only after that she began to talk to him. She told him about how he met Eragon and he kidnapped her, and even how she had met him before when he was show casing the eggs to the dwarves in her area. About midday she ran out of things to tell him, and Shruikan took the opportunity to reveal something.

_I do believe we could be good friends given the opportunity. Uru Baen isn't exactly the best environment for making friends, but I have a feeling you are well liked wherever you go._Rhonny grinned and he felt her energy change immensely.

_I think we could be good friends as well, Shruikan._He hummed at her, gaining the fleeting attention of Saphira with the sound. She cask him a quick glance but did not speak, still intwined in conversation with her rider. Shruikan simpered in response.

_Shruikan, may I ask something of you?_Eragon spoke into the male dragons mind. Shruikan turned his head slightly, flashing his teeth in jest.

_I do believe you just did, young one,_Shruikan said slyly, and Eragon grinned at him, yet the unease could be seen on his face.

_Could you... what is the King like?_Eragon asked softly, his voice betrayal his anxiety. It occurred to Shruikan like a slap to the face that the two knew nothing about Galbatorix for sure, and they were just blindly following him away from their sanctuary. Maybe he had known this since he had first asked Saphira to come back with him, and had just been ignoring it. Now he couldn't, and his throat tightened.

Swallowing thickly, Shruikan struggled to find a place to start that wouldn't be that hard to accept. He knew the rumors spread about the "mad king" yet did not know how many Eragon had been told growing up. As much as Galbatorix hated to admit to anyone, they both knew his ways were not liked in the smaller villages towards the outer reaches of his kingdom. The common, rural people preferred to be left alone but with war crashing closer and closer to their homes Galbatorix was forced to move them about. He knew his rider felt like he could do nothing right when it came to his popularity, "only the soldiers seem to like me, and even then..." Galbatorix had admitted once.

Afraid to give the wrong impression, Shruikan decided to start with the one thing most people assumed, the most common lie about Galbatorix. _Well Eragon, to be frank, he is not insane,_ Shruikan started, and watched the wheels in Eragon's head turn. No doubt it was the one thing he had heard his whole life. _Not to the extent some would have you believe,_ Shruikan added after, hoping that would ease the apparent confusion. _It is true his tactics can be unconventional at times, but he tries to remain just. _

Eragon nodded slowly, letting the truth sink in. He figured as soon as he met Shruikan and actually took the time to talk with the older dragon (at Rhonny's persuading, of course) that Shruikan wasn't mad like he had been told, and at least some of that sanity must pass onto his rider. _Connected minds is probably how they've stayed sane this whole time,_Saphira suggested, and Eragon nodded again.

_Lonesome immortality would indeed be maddening,_he confirmed, and felt Saphira agree with him. When they landed that night for a quick rest, Eragon and Rhonny moved about each other seamlessly as they always did. Shruikan and Saphira laid next to one another, discussing softly the state of the Empire and Galbatorix. Shruikan was taking his time, patiently proving that the King wasn't mad.

_He's lost a lot in this war, and so have I. You'll truly have to see for yourself, but I hope you'll try and understand him before labeling him. He is just simple a man trying to govern a kingdom, and when he gives orders he expects them to be followed. _

_Were Murtagh and Thorn punished when they came back from the Burning Plains empty handed?_Saphira asked and Shruikan paused, considering this. In the end, he chose to tell her the underlying truth to their battle.

_Honestly, we weren't expecting him to win at all, so not really. Their punishment was harder training and less free time to laze about, if you count that. The battle of the Burning Plains was really just to see you through his eyes... and listen to you. Determine your dedication to the rebellion, if you will,_he added, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. He had listened to her through Murtagh's mind, quickly storing away everything she said into his memory. While they did use it to analyze her behavior, Shruikan admitted to himself he used his son to selfishly watch the last female of their species. He'd be damned if he'd tell her that though.

It didn't take long for Saphira to fall asleep after that, he had known the first flight would exhaust her so. It was really too soon for a female to be flying after birth, but he couldn't convince her of that. He watched Eragon lean himself up against Saphira's side and slowly begin to snore quietly, his own eyes drifting closed as well. _There are still some out there who could harm us that I must keep watch for,_ he reminded himself, and his eyes popped open again.

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**Sorry I missed the update on Monday, this chapter simply was done in time. I will be updating on Friday this week like usual :)**

**Next Update: 4/20/2012**


	45. The Manor

**3 more chapters until Rated M (for mature). Or should I just do it now?**

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!  
**

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Another two days and the land slowly transformed from mountains of sand to flat plains of small shrubs and weeds. The next day the barren plains turned to fields of lush grass and in the distance they could see forests looming. What would have taken their group months to walk Shruikan and Saphira had flown in a matter of days, and the stark contrasts between landscapes made Eragon realize how truly diverse the lands could be. He even spotted the ridges of a mountain range on the horizon and Shruikan told him that another days travel to the north would take them to the Ramr River, where the ground gave way to dense marsh and uncharted swamp.

_Where would you like to stay, Eragon?_Shruikan asked him, assuming that the young rider was not yet ready to stay in the capital, too much change too fast, and all. Eragon looked up from the ground below them to the dark dragon, his fascination for the new lands giving way to his uncertainty.

_Not the castle, to be honest. Not yet,_Eragon answered truthfully, and Shruikan nodded, already knowing this.

_Would you mind staying a slightly smaller town nearby where you would be less confined to the space of the castle? It would be close enough that it wouldn't take you half the day to travel back and forth when needed,_Shruikan offered, thinking of a manor in a small town to the east of Uru Baen that a rider of old built for himself, as it would be perfect for the pair to adjust to Imperial life. Not too big as to scare them off, not to small as to make them feel cramped. Of course, he realized living in another former rider's house would bring up the question of the Forsworn, and even the fall, but he was willing to explain should the question come up. Especially if it meant brushing away any rumors Eragon and Saphira believed.

That sounds good to me, Eragon answered, quickly checking with Saphira and announcing her agreement as well. Rhonny nodded, happy to have a place to stay again instead of sleeping on the ground like they had been since setting out. She didn't mind it, but she had become far too spoiled on her bed of furs in the cave to deal with it for very long. Besides, the idea of a manor all to herself (and eragon, of course) made her smile.

Shruikan cast a glance in Saphira's direction, knowing he needed to ask her what she planned on doing with her eggs. How do you plan on protecting them? He finally inquired after a while, and she looked over to him.

_I honestly don't know,_she answered, and she paused before asking for his help. He knew she would have to, so he tried to make his advice worthwhile.

_Humans are an honest people for the most part, but will not shy away from stealing should the opportunity come up,_ he reminded her, and she nodded. _If you cloak them they should be alright, but we can also place a tracking spell on them in case someone does manage to break in and find them._

Eragon nodded in understanding, giving Shruikan permission to enter his mind and implant the knowledge of the spell so he could put it over the eggs once they settled in. It was far stronger than any Eragon had every heard about, _you will have to renew it once every few weeks or the visibility of the eggs will shimmer in certain lights,_Shruikan warned.

Another hour later and Shruikan was leading them above a small town towards a large manor on a hill with trees strewn about. The people below them pointed and gaped, smiling and shouting. The children ran below them, obviously laughing, and Eragon just how used to dragon riders this town was. The local residents didn't seem at all frightened by their presence.

The manor itself was old by human standards, but well kept and large. Behind the house was a colossal tower with giant archways open to the sky from bottom to top, which Shruikan informed them served as a dragon keep. Looking at it closer Eragon could see four doors that could be closed in bad weather leading into rooms. He didn't have time to see what the inside looked like as they flew around it a few times because Shruikan wanted to show them to the manor itself. He couldn't go in, only smaller dragons would fit as it was made solely for humans, but he assured them Eragon could simply walk down the hall connecting the manor to the Dragon tower and climb stairs to visit Saphira.

_Murtagh owns a similar homestead slightly to the North of Uru Baen, across the river. It is a bit larger, but the layout is the same. In fact, I would not be surprised if Galbatorix offers you this land should you show interest in it, the King has no use for spare houses, especially when there are other riders in need of a home._Eragon slid down from Saphira saddle after they landed and helped Rhonny do the same when Shruikan laid on the ground to let her get off.

"Why would Galbatorix give me lands? Wouldn't that anger the lords around here?" Shruikan was happy the boy had a bit of knowledge on how things worked, but he doubted it would be enough for him to keep up. Even though he didn't like it, at least Murtagh was adept in the art of politics. No doubt Galbatorix would help Eragon get to a similar level of understanding, but that might take a bit of time.

_Because these manors held dragon riders and always will, the lords have no say in the matter of who holds them. They are currently all under his possession by default, but as there are other riders now, Galbatorix has no more right to them than you. Should you like living here enough, he will offer to you the manor, the town, and the surrounding fields and forests, to govern as you see fit. It is good training for a young rider, better to start small, yes?_Shruikan explained as Eragon untied their packs from the dragons' backs and set everything on the ground. Rhonny had already sprinted inside to explore everything, and they could all hear her "oohing" and "ahhing" at the interior. Eragon smiled at her antics, un-cinching Saphira's before setting that next to their packs as well.

"Well, thank you for everything Shruikan," Eragon thanked him politely, hefting their packs onto his shoulders and preparing to take everything inside and join Rhonny in exploring. Shruikan gave him a deep bow in response, and Eragon turned, promptly disappearing and shutting the door behind him.

Saphira frowned at the closed door, obviously not used to being dismissed by her rider so quickly. _Do not worry about him, young blue, he is just curious and tired. _

_I know that,_Saphira snapped, turning around and beginning to march herself around the building towards the tower where she would be sleeping. Shruikan followed along behind her, not at all put off by her sudden anger. What she didn't realize that while she was getting ready to raise a family, Eragon was undeniably getting ready to start one. He had overheard a few wisps of the conversation between Rhonny and the rider during the flight, and was surprised to learn they were wholeheartedly planning on getting married. Saphira might've heard it too, but regardless, she was still thrown off by Eragon paying more attention to anyone but her. Shruikan reasoned it was his job to help her through it.

Saphira had flown up to the highest archway and ducked in, beginning examine her new accommodations with wide eyes. Shruikan landed behind her after moment, as the space was big enough to fit them both, but he did not move any closer to her than that. He cast his eyes over the room as well, noting the comfortable looking cushion on the farthest side, far away from the door, and the many windows that let the light in. He swept his eyes back to Saphira and found her sniffing the cushion, big enough for her to curl up on, which most likely still smelt of the last dragon who used it many years ago.

When she laid down on it and sighed, he figured she had relaxed enough to listen to him. She was exhausted, that much was for sure, but he needed to explain a few things to her. _A few things about the people here, Saphira,_ he started, and she looked up to him with eyes that were far more forbearing than they were when Eragon had first walked into the house without saying goodbye properly. _They are used to dragons and riders, but you need to walk around with Eragon and Rhonny in order for them to be at ease with you. It had been many years since and dragon rider took up permanent residence here, so they will be both curious and overjoyed, I presume. _

After a moment Saphira nodded in understanding. _Can I hunt or would it be better to buy livestock instead?_She asked calmly, and Shruikan took this as a good sign.

_If you fly far enough into the eastern forests you should be alright, but having a small herd of livestock around wouldn't be a terrible idea in case you fall ill and cannot hunt for yourself. When I return I will bring Eragon the necessary funds. A few horses couldn't hurt either,_Shruikan noted, knowing Saphira would not want to fly her rider every time he wished to go somewhere. That, and he figured horse back riding would give Eragon and Rhonny time together.

_Return?_She questioned, almost sounding concerned, and Shruikan forced down a twitch of his tail at the thought of her missing him.

_I must fly to Melian and bring a spell caster back to the capital tonight, but I shall return on the morrow, remember?_He prompted, and watched her look down, thinking.

_Will the King be with you?_

_Perhaps. To be honest, and don't tell him I'm telling you this, he is more nervous over the meeting than you are,_ her eyes lit up, amused, and Shruikan chuckled, happy to keep the mood light. _He's gotten this far with you by letting me be the mediator, and isn't looking forward to any grudges you may hold against his empire, and he knows about the mishap with Eragon's uncle._

Saphira looked down at the ground, amusement gone. Shruikan's voice sank to a softer level, _the king is a strong man, Saphira, but he knows what it's like to lose someone you love, and to want to take revenge._ He looked out to the sky behind him, wings shifting at his sides. She still did not look at him. _If you think of anything that might make your build up of tolerance towards him any more gradual than just an outright meeting, please speak up._He finished, turning himself around and ruffling his wings in preparation for the flight ahead. It took a great amount or flying to strain his wings, but that didn't mean he would enjoy the long flight ahead.

_Do you think you could bring Thorn and Murtagh here? I would like to see them before Galbatorix,_Saphira answered him, nearly whispering. It was an excellent idea, a significantly smaller step than meeting the King himself. Shruikan nearly hummed at her, proud of her intellect, and craned his head around to look at her.

_Excellent plan, young one. I shall bring them with me when I return, Shruikan's wing ruffled again before he continued. Hopefully you will see improvement in them, but I warn you, Thorn might not talk too much, and Murtagh holds some hard feelings as well._He tried to explain without bringing up anything that happened between the two riders and dragons in the past. It had been difficult to watch Murtagh fight his half brother and Thorn take on Saphira when he was no where near ready. It had been necessary at the time, but Shruikan had no wish to repeat that kind of incident. I recommend you think up an apology, and will advise them to do the same, he dared advise.

Saphira nodded slightly, knowing she had many things to amend with the red dragon before she could move on with her life. She still didn't know if she was going to be able to adjust to living on the other side of the war, let alone work with Shruikan for the Empire. She resisted the urge to sigh, knowing the next few weeks were going to be tough on her.

_Thank you Shruikan,_ she said suddenly, voice now stronger than it had been minutes before. Even if things didn't turn out the way they were planning, she was still grateful with the older dragon for finding her and offering his guidance. She was still wary of him and his rider, of course, but she knew now she did not blindly hate them as she once did. _I welcome any advise you can give me and will try to help you in return in any way I can._ Saphira lifted her eyes to burn them into his, growing fierce. _But if you wrong me, I will not hesitate to burn your castle to the ground with you, your mysterious rider, and all your precious secrets inside._

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******Profile poll: please look at it! :D I hope this clears up a few things. If there is anything you still confused about, review with so I can work the answer into the plot later :)  
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**Next Update: 4/23/2012**


	46. Always Wrong

**2 more chapters until Rated M (for mature). Or should I just do it now?**

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

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Melian welcomed his arrival with more enthusiasm than Shruikan anticipated. They shouted and pointed when he swooped above the city and roared ferociously, happy to see them again. He enjoyed being loved, it convinced him he was doing what was needed. People crowded the streets, trying to get a closer look at him as he landed on the roof of the Keep, tail twisting around the nearby tower playfully. They tried to touch him as he walked by as if some of his magical properties would rub off onto their hands.

He gave into the lord's pressures for an honorary feast, as he had skipped out on them last time he was there to battle against the Varden. Since then they had prospered, and Shruikan was glad to find that the farmers had settled nicely into the lower levels of the city. A good amount of the city's wealth had been put towards stocking their kitchens with the early harvest, and the three minor spell casters Galbatorix sent had made sure to enchant the food so it would not spoil too soon.

After the feast, at which Shruikan appreciatively downed an entire roasted cow, Shruikan told them he was only there pick up his captive and then would be back to Uru Baen as fast as his wings would take him. The people were a bit disappointed to say the least, but Shruikan asserted he absolutely could not stay. He lightened the mood with a joke on the _importance_ of the female spell caster to the King and how her spells would be warming his bed. He left the keep while the laughter was loud and the ale abundant.

He called the guards to escort Trianna out, as he had no desire to squeeze himself down into the small dungeon. After a month of living in a cell she did not look too happy with him, yet he could see the relief on her face when he had them remove the precautionary shackles and allowed her to climb onto his back. There was a reason he did not let Eragon remove Rhonny's makeshift saddle hours before.

Melian bid them goodbye, and Shruikan promised to visit again as soon as he could. Trianna stayed quiet through the whole flight, but Shruikan paid it no mind on the assumption she was just anxious. Meeting Galbatorix was no small feat, and even a daring spell caster would surely be effected by her nerves.

Shruikan landed on the stone steps leading up the castle and bellowed their arrival, proceeding to help Trianna slide off his back slowly. It was a long drop for any human, so he tried to be gentle, lowering her down on his leg. Based on her appearance Melian had treated her well, but not too well. She smelled of fresh soap, most likely from a recent bath, and her dress was not tattered, instead looking quite new.

He spared her a toothy smile and nudged her forward with his nose, prompting her to walk through the now open giant doors. Just inside, Galbatorix stood with his arms crossed over his chest. It didn't occur to Shruikan that Galbatorix managed to astound everyone who first met him until Trianna reminded him with a gasp. He glanced down at her to find her in the middle of a staring match with the King.

Trianna's eyes had grown wide the instant she realized who the man standing in the doorway was. Galbatorix had no use for a shining crown on his head yet it did not take much to pick him out in a crowd. He was a full head taller than normal men, and his stature matched the build of a dragon. Even his hair went along with Shruikan's scales. _It seems fitting his hair is black,_ Trianna thought, careful not to obviously guard her thoughts while still not letting anyone hear.

Her attempts at private were in vain, however, and she realized this when the corner of Galbatorix lip turned up. His sharp green eyes caught her blue ones for a while, holding her in place as he undoubtably shifted through her mind with ease. She didn't like people being in her head, especially after her bad experience with the Twins, but she fought down the discomfort and let herself be scrutinized.

"Escort her to an empty room on the second floor," Galbatorix ordered, and two guards were immediately at her sides. She looked between them, back to Shruikan, then to the King. She was a bit confused, but only for a second. Then her face took on an unreadable expression, resigning to being led away. Her mask wasn't nearly as good as one Galbatorix normally wore, but he gave her credit for having one at all.

"In the East wing, sire?" The older of the two guards asked, used to taking care of the King's pets. Galbatorix swept his gaze away from Shruikan and back to the two guards, still standing there awaiting orders. It was better not to assume what the king wanted and merely wait for proper orders, assuming got you in trouble. He nodded curtly, and the guards dismissed themselves, carrying Trianna away to her new quarters.

After they left, Galbatorix unfolded his arms, shaking his head. "Really Shruikan?" Shruikan chuckled, nearly growling and went around him. Galbatorix walked next to him, not believing they were going through this again.

_It is my job to help you, rider, and if that means getting you a woman, so be it._ Galbatorix rolled his eyes, beginning to protest, but Shruikan would have none of it._ Besides, I like her, and you are in need of a new Black Hand._ Shruikan was speaking the truth, after Selena, Galbatorix had yet to find and train a new leader of the Black Hand. Since the founding of the group of magicians there was always one to run the group so the King himself wouldn't have to. Of course, the Black Hand was yet to have a male leader. Shruikan did not find it a coincidence Galbatorix favored female spell casters for the role, as he knew the relationship between Galbatorix and his female Black Hand was far from platonic.

"I do not enjoy being set up," Galbatorix reminded his dragon, but Shruikan merely shook his body and ruffled his wings.

_Well if you don't tell her where your room is, I will. You're always in a much better mood after a night with a woman._ Galbatorix glared ahead.

"Isn't any man?" Shruikan chuckled at him but didn't push the subject anymore, which Galbatorix was grateful for. He shared many things with Shruikan, but his love life was not something he liked getting help with. If he was lonely he found a woman on his own, it wasn't like there was a dearth of willing maids running around.

Shruikan left him for his own room to get a good nights sleep, curling up on his over sized cushion and closing his eyes with a sigh. It had been so long since he had slept on a real bed, and he knew Eragon and Saphira were probably thinking the same thing.

He felt Thorn reaching out to his mind as soon as he awoke. The young dragon was eager to get back to his training, yet Shruikan knew he needed to teach Thorn about something a bit different than the next fighting technique. When the red dragon joined him in the sky above the castle, Shruikan led him out to the rolling fields surrounding the capital where they traditionally trained.

They landed silently, just sitting there for a while. Thorn's tail twitched, and Shruikan's eyes widened when the younger dragon bumped his head to Shruikan's chest shyly. _I am glad you are back,_ master, Thorn admitted, voice soft. Shruikan found himself humming in response.

_I am glad to be back, little red,_ Shruikan rumbled, lifting a paw up to pet the back of Thorn's neck. He had realized long ago that his hatchling had grown into a nearly fully matured dragon, perhaps ready to raise his own family. The idea made Shruikan swell with pride, yet sadness. He wasn't ready to lose his little red just yet. His grip on the young dragons neck tightened temporarily before he remember the lesson ahead.

Clearing his throat, he let go of Thorn and have an indication it was time to get serious by the look on his face. Thorn followed suit, situating himself for a what would obviously be a lesson without any action in it. He found Shruikan's schooling interesting, of course, but he liked the training the best._ How much do you know about relationships, Thorn?_

When the tip of Thorn's tail twitched in embarrassment, Shruikan knew he took it the wrong way. Shruikan didn't just mean between mates, he was trying to focus on the parts of dragon - dragon interaction that Thorn missed out being raised so secluded from the rest of his race. As hard as he tried to give Thorn the perfect existence, there were many things an old master could not help the younger experience.

_Not much, Master,_ Thorn admitted, and Shruikan nodded, knowing it was true before he said it. It would hinder him for a while before there were enough dragons to show him how to act properly, but Shruikan did not worry how this would effect the reds possible friendship, or even romantic relationship, with Saphira. The young female was raised just as secluded as he; if anything, Thorn was better off. Saphira took after her rider more than a dragon should, undoubtably due to the young boy being the only one around her in those crucial first years of development.

_Telling Thorn not worry about it now,_ Shruikan began towards the tree line looming directly in front of them, not bothering to take to the skies just yet. _I want to speak to you about Saphira and Eragon, and Rhonny,_ Shruikan told him, making his way through the forest to where he smelt prey. Thorn sensed it too, and he edged ahead of his master, taking to the trees to get a better view.

_Who's Rhonny?_ Thorn asked, trying to remember anyone by that name that he should know, and why they were associated with the other rider pair. Shruikan lifted his head, watching Thorn jump from tree to tree up above.

_A young woman who I'm fairly sure is Eragon's love interest,_ Shruikan answered, and Thorn whipped his head around in shock to look down at him. Shruikan nodded, _even more astonishing, I do believe she is half dwarf, half elf._ Thorn whistled in surprise, eyes wide. They both knew such a pairing was near to impossible, yet they were happy Eragon wasn't with an elf. Thorn was sure Murtagh would approve as well.

_Tomorrow we will be flying to the manor they are currently staying at to get you reacquainted._ Shruikan watched Thorn cringe at his words, and raised an eyebrow at the younger dragon. Thorn rushed to explain himself.

_Oh! It's just... are you sure me visiting them is the best idea? Especially with Saphira... and our previous fights... and all..._ Thorn tried. Shruikan had let told him about Saphira's condition in minimal detail so the younger dragon wouldn't be blown away by any strange behavior Saphira displayed. Apparently, Murtagh had laughed at their predicament (in the most brotherly way possible, of course) and went as far to say he couldn't wait to see them again, his voice laced with dark humor.

_You'll be quite alright, Thorn. But based on your history I recommend you think up a worthy apology, especially what happened in the woods between us three._

_But I didn't do anything w-_

_That doesn't matter, Thorn. Females are a tricky bunch, and deep down Saphira wants you to say you're sorry before anything else. _

_Even if I did no wrong? _

_That's the key: You are always wrong,_ Shruikan chuckled, and Thorn seemed to be thinking this over. Shruikan had warned him females were confusing, but only now he was beginning to believe him. That, and after she attacked him in the woods he rethought his views on the opposite sex.

After they both caught something to satisfy their stomachs and Shruikan fully explained the new deal with Eragon and Saphira (as well as how Rhonny seemed to fit into things) Shruikan led them back to the castle. On the front steps, Thorn bowed, vowing to think up a worth apology and to make Murtagh work on his own as well, and then left Shruikan to his thoughts.

His mind led his body up to the door towards the back of his personal room, one that unlocked at his command and revealed a chamber filled to the brim with Elundari, and more importantly, eggs. Shruikan smiled, and greeted all his babies young and old. The Elundari responded properly, while the eggs sent him colors and simple words, feelings even.

He vowed to talk to them all into the night and tell them what had taken him so long, but first he padded over and grabbed a dull grey Elundari out of it's padded box. _I have a surprise for you, Iormungr,_ Shruikan begin, heading out the giant door again. He left it open behind him so he could contact the rest of them better, but his main focus was the soul of Saphira's father in his palm, who seemed to be awakening from a long sleep. It was common for the older dragon's to sleep the time away, having nothing better to you.

_I hope she is pleased to meet me,_ Iormungr murmured, embarrassed with himself for being so nervous, but Shruikan rushed to comfort him.

_Of she will be excited to speak to you no matter what you say!_ Shruikan assured him, setting him down next to him on the cushion as he curled up to talk the day away with his friends. _She is so much like her mother, you wouldn't even believe._ And that started their conversation.

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**One,** today's my **birthday!** :D So please review if you like this story, me, or anything in general!

**Two, **here are the words I based everyone off of:

**Shruikan:** Passive. **Galbatorix:** Controlled. **Thorn:** Shy. **Murtagh:** Sullen/Asshole(lol). **Eragon:** Naive. **Saphira:** Proud. **Rhonny:** Carefree/Cheerful.

Haha, as you can see some are spot on, while some need to be flushed out a bit more :D

**Next Update: 4/27/2012**


	47. Diplomatic Immunity

**Last chapter before Rated M (for mature). Which makes me sad because that means less new readers... aw. But considering I always get nervous writing M Rated things, we'll see how it goes xD  
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**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

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Thorn was more nervous about meeting Saphira again than he thought reasonable, yet Murtagh assured him it was normal. His rider's own jumbled nerves comforted him, strangely enough, and Thorn nodded to Shruikan before taking off. His master led them east, and when they arrived Thorn was surprised to find Eragon and Saphira waiting for them outside an old rider's house that looked much like the one they owned.

Thorn landed several dozen feet away from Saphira, safely beside Shruikan. Shruikan shocked him by leaving to lie down off towards the side, making it clear he was on no one's side. Thorn would have been hurt, but Shruikan had warned him how easily offended Saphira could be, and he understood it was better for Shruikan to hurt his feelings than hers.

Locking eyes with Saphira, Thorn glanced down to his feet and back up, then slowly bowed his head towards the ground in a polite greeting. She regarded him for a moment before mimicking his movements, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

He glanced over to see Murtagh and Eragon facing each other as well. The two riders stared for what seemed like years to the dragons, yet Murtagh put one foot in front of the other until he was standing in front of his half-brother, arm outstretched for a shake. Eragon gripped his hand firmly, and surprised his older brother by wrapping him in a hug as well. Only Thorn sensed Murtagh's twinge of relief, and his small happiness, at the contact.

Knowing he would get no such abrupt acceptance from Saphira, Thorn gently pushed on her mind, reminding her he was still standing there. She let him in shortly, and in the small time allowed Thorn rehearsed his apology one last time. _Saphira, _he greeted her, and she answered somewhat coolly.

_Thorn, _her voice held no malice, and Thorn found himself taken back. In all his time thinking about her and this moment, he had never suspecting she'd sound any different than she did in battle. This time around, however, he found her voice surprisingly pleasant to hear. He guarded the feeling from her mind, brushing it back into his own, and continued as planned.

_May good fortune find you and your future family, _he tried, bowing his head again, but did not grovel like before. She spared him a smile, a habit he found odd, but not disagreeable, on a dragon's face. She was obviously nervous, he could see it in her eyes, and was once again comforted to know he was not the only one uncomfortable with the situation.

_Thank you, Thorn, the same to you as well, _with that, a great weight was lifted off their shoulders. Thorn and Saphira shared the gentle feeling of acceptance between their connected minds, and they both knew things would be far easier from then on. It was clear neither harbored bad feelings for the other, and their rider's seemed to be doing quite nicely also.

"So this is where you're staying, huh?" Murtagh looked over the manor with interest, wondering if it was the same as his inside and out. Eragon grinned, offering to show him inside. "Why not," Murtagh answered, and they disappeared inside. The only concern was Shruikan would have trouble stopping any fights if they started once inside, but Shruikan felt the possibility of a fight was slim enough not to worry.

Eragon bumped into a dumbfounded Rhonny, who took an immediate interest in Murtagh. "Oh, hello!" She sang, curtseying in front of him properly, and Eragon was surprised to see Murtagh smile at her. "Eragon didn't tell me he was having guests over," Rhonny shot Eragon a quick scolding look, and Murtagh outright grinned at this.

"I am Murtagh, and you are?" Murtagh asked, nodding to her. Had he been more like Galbatorix, he would have kissed her hand properly, but he found those old traditions boring.

"Rhonny," she chirped in return, and promptly danced around them towards the door. She gave Eragon a quick kiss as she passed him, "I'm going to town, don't wait up!" With that, she left them, skipping out the door and swinging it closed behind her.

As soon as the door slammed close Murtagh chuckled. "And how exactly did you meet her?" Eragon smiled sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

"I may or may not have kidnapped her," he admitted, and watched Murtagh's face split in a nefarious grin. Eragon led him away from the door and into the kitchen, deciding a bit of alcohol might be needed for this story. "I met her in the dessert and was forced to bring her along. Not really a bad decision, in hindsight," Eragon offered his brother a glass and they both sat on the comfy chairs in the other room.

A fireplace loomed in between them, giant glass windows reached from floor to ceiling on the other wall, overlooking the fields that stretched towards the shadowed forest to the east. Eragon glanced out but brought his attention back to Murtagh when the Red Rider replied, "oh I can see that." His voice was suggestive, and Eragon felt the heat rush to his face.

"I didn't mean it that way," Eragon tried, but Murtagh waved it off. He meant it only in jest, hoping to find something he could talk about with his younger brother that didn't involve more heated topics, like the war or the elves. He was curious, however, as to why Eragon left the Varden. So he asked.

It occurred then to Eragon that while Thorn obviously knew about Saphira's pregnancy, Murtagh does not. _I wonder if that was Shruikan's doing. Surely Thorn must have wanted to tell his rider, as Saphira shares things freely with me, _Eragon reasoned, taking a sip of his mead. It had a relatively sweet flavor, and he remembered sharing a bit with Roran on special holidays when they could afford it. He spared a small smile, and didn't notice the confusion on Murtagh's face.

_Saphira, would you be alright with me telling Murtagh about the eggs? _Eragon asked her quickly, pretending to think it over while Murtagh waited patiently (no small feat) nearby.

_He will find out sooner or later; better from you, yes?_ She answered, and Eragon nodded to her.

"Saphira was artificially impregnated and we left to keep her future eggs safe," Eragon finally told Murtagh, who was obviously taken back.

After a few minutes, and a few sips of mead between the two of them, Murtagh finally tried to speak. "So that's… that's why you attacked us in the forest? Not because Nasuada ordered you to…" They both looked down to the floor, not wanting to meet eyes.

"It was stupid and foolish, but yes. We went after you on the assumption Thorn was the culprit," Eragon explained, voice low and hoarse. Murtagh nodded, not knowing what to say. He had been furious with them after the incident, yet merely used it as motivation to train harder; he had thought they were doing as they were told. _Still an okay reason, if Thorn and I were in that situation, we would have done much worse. _

Unknown to them, their dragons were having the exact same conversation. _It is alright, Saphira, _Thorn offered, smiling meekly, _based on your information at the time, you are completely pardoned. _

_After I figured out it wasn't you, I thought it was Shruikan, _Saphira admitted, looking ashamed of her actions. Shruikan looked over at her passively.

_It seems you make the majority of your decisions based on assumptions, _he commented, watching Saphira begin to glare at the ground. Remarkably, she did not quip back, earning her a bit of respect from Thorn: It's good to know when to pick your battles.

_Shall we fly together? _Shruikan suggested, rising to his feet and stretching his wings from his sides. The two younger dragons agreed, also preparing for flight. They took off, heading west and towards the capital. _I wanted to show you Uru Baen before you visit with Eragon._ Shruikan hoped to bring her and Eragon to the castle within the week, as even though he doesn't want to rush things, he knows the sooner the better. The war has weakened the empire, and morale is low. Due to recent victories on the Northern front against the elves, conditions have gotten better. Citizens tend to be more accepting of war time taxes when the war was being won and their homes protected.

While they flew, Shruikan decided it was acceptable to tell them Galbatorix's plan for the southern fields and how it all came together perfectly. Thorn congratulated his master on a job well done. Saphira, despite herself, did so as well. _Even I wouldn't have thought of something like that. Burning all the fields to remove any chance the Varden had at food? _She grinned wickedly, _genius. _

They neared the city after about an hour of talking and sharing. Saphira stared down at the buildings below them, amazed at the size and amount. The people looked up from their everyday tasks and pointed, which she was used to, but she heard over the beating of their wings the hollers and cheers of the people. She frowned, confused, and looked to Shruikan for explanation. _I have done nothing to show them I am on their side, why are they so excited to see me?_

Shruikan snorted at her, noticing how she assumed it was all for her. _They cheer for us as well as you, blue. My guess is given the fact you aren't thrashing and roaring in defiance they assume you have joined the empire. They have been hoping for this since I announced your capture five years ago. _He watched her think it all over.

_I wish to hold a banquet to make your alliance to the Empire official. In due time, of course, _he rushed to clarify when the idea seemed to horrify her. He knew the idea as a whole made her nervous. _You are still a free dragon, Saphira, you may take your rider and leave should you absolutely want to, _he whispered, _but I was hoping that with your enthusiasm towards meeting Thorn and making amends… _he trailed off, and was surprised to see her nod in agreement.

_No that sounds like an excellent idea, _she asserted casting her eyes over the colossal city. She was determined to spite the Varden, and the elves, as much as she possibly could. Shruikan bowed his head simply, and Thorn kept quiet. Secretly, Shruikan was ecstatic at her consent; a ball was just what they needed to make her alliance to the Empire final.

_At the moment, you hold diplomatic immunity so the rules over you and Eragon are quite lax, just don't do anything foolish, _he told her, and Thorn twirled around them happily. In his mind, his family was finally coming together as it should be. He was still scared of Saphira, of course, but he rather liked the idea of her being on their side.

When they landed in front of the manor again, the sun was nearly setting, and after spending the whole day constantly flying, Saphira was indeed tired. Shruikan nudged Thorn with his snout and the younger dragon scampered like a kitten. _It is time Murtagh and I leave you, Saphira. _Thorn said his goodbye as Murtagh walked out the front door with Eragon right behind him.

_You're company was… appreciated. Please bring Murtagh and visit again, _she insisted, returning the head bow he gave her. Murtagh swung up onto his dragons back with grace and nodded his farewell to his half-brother who stood there and waved. Thorn hummed at them all and launched into the sky, taking a few steps to gain momentum.

They watched the pair go until Rhonny arrived and whisked Eragon back inside, leaving the two dragons alone. Saphira met Shruikan's gaze, surprised to find praise there. _Your tolerance of Thorn is most appreciated. I'm sure you just made his week. _

_It wasn't that difficult_, _he's actually quite easy to get along with, _she admitted_. I think I like him more because I'm not fighting him for once. _Shruikan nodded, the tip of his tail swinging unnoticeably behind him.

_Aye, little red, _Shruikan whispered, and Saphira hears the emotion in his voice. Her curiosity peaking, she edged closer to him in search of another story. Shruikan's personal life and past were intriguing, and she found herself constantly yearning to know more about him.

_Did you raise him? _She questioned, figuring it couldn't hurt, and watched Shruikan nod, not seeming to notice her closer proximity.

_Like a son, _he revealed, trying not to choke up at the memories and effectively fighting the emotions down. He glanced down at Saphira, who was watching him with wide, curious eyes, and spared her a sad purr.

_Do you have any other experience raising young? Maybe before the war? _She asked, not knowing that Shruikan was happy she didn't say fall like she used to.

_Well, I did raise one egg before I met a dragoness and tried to fall in love with my own. He was my little brother really, and when some family issues complicated his life I took him in. I think he was about, 4 months or so. Such a small thing, _his tail twitched with the memories as he sat down and Saphira sat next to him.

_What was he like? _Saphira dared ask, trying not to let her voice sink into a whisper. Shruikan looked up to the clouds and his breathing slowed. She wanted to know more, but how much could he really tell her with disappointing her? He couldn't reveal all his secrets, not until she was in full allegiance with them.

_He was lazy and childish, his scales only a shade lighter than mine. A dark brown, perfect for hunting in the fall. Before the start of the war against the Order I told him to fly as far away as he could to escape. Once the war is over, I hope to set my time towards finding him and bringing him back home. _

Saphira nodded in understanding. _I'm sure you will find him, Shruikan, _she offered, and surprised even herself by uttering an instinctual soft crooning sound. Shruikan looked amused by her and she felt the heat rise to her face, a very human habit. Looking down and away, Saphira tried to find something to steer the conversation away from this very personal, and strangely embarrassing, topic. _How did the war start? _She asked, only to see Shruikan shake his head.

_It is not my place to tell you, my side of the story will be biased. Once you feel comfortable visiting the castle remember to read the scrolls in the library from both sides of the conflict._ He advised her, and thought of something else. _Only when you and Eragon make up your minds on where you would like to go from here, should you fully immerse yourself with the Empire, I will teach you. _

_Until then, _he closed his eyes and Galbatorix's magic flashed, transporting something to his closed paw. Shruikan presented Saphira with the Elundari within his fist and nodded when she looked up at him, paralyzed with shock. _Take it, it is rightfully yours._

She plucked it from his hold gently; cradling it in her paws like it might break if she grasped it too hard. _The dragon inside is Iormungr, and he has been waiting a hundred years to finally talk to you. _Saphira nearly fainted, her eyes locked onto the Heart of Hearts. Her pulse throbbed in her throat painfully, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

_Th-this is…_

_I am your father, Saphira, _the Elundari answered, voice smoky and edgy like fire. She still couldn't move, and in the back of her mind she knew she was making a complete fool of herself.

Saphira tried to speak and failed, only vaguely aware of Shruikan saying his goodbye to the two of them before launching away towards the capital. It would be another month before she saw him again due to everything he needed to catch up on at the castle, but she would barely notice his absence. For the moment, her mind was focused solely on the mind of her father resting on her palm.

_Well meet… Dad…_

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I'm sorry for being gone for nearly three weeks, I simply did not have the time between track, school, and homework. Writing is my last priority, unfortunately :( I guess I'll bump back down to **one chapter a week** and put them up on **Saturday**. That should keep the story going enough for you guys, while not exhausting me. Don't worry though, once summer vacation starts I'll be writing like a maniac :D and hopefully we can get this damn thing finished! Weeew!

**Next Update: 5/19/2012**


	48. Nother Authors Note

Hello all,

I regret to inform you that the surprise update I had been writing all afternoon for you all has been lost. I had been writing for a solid three hours, had a chapter bordering on 4,000 words and I wasn't even finished, and went to close/save it.

I clicked the wrong button.

Chapters will resume whenever I stop crying like a baby about it and rewrite the whole goddamn thing.

It was a brilliant chapter too. After two months of writing other things the words were flowing perfectly.

Now

Now it's all gone.

I'm just gonna go cry some more now.

with love,

Cad


	49. Fifteen Again

Yes, this chapter does feature** Mature themes** and the rating has been changed to M because of it. Depending on the responses I get I might write in more stuff like this because it does fit. The only reason Paolini didn't have any of it was because he's a pansy.

Nothing SUPER explicit, but if such things make you queasy I recommend you skip this one. I would like some feedback since this is my first time writing something like this. (I am already aware it's not very descriptive when it comes to the _feelings _of sex, but I'm not writing porn for you all)

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

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After his day off with Thorn and Saphira, Shruikan's next few weeks were filled with meetings with Galbatorix and the council, catching up on the happenings of the Northern front, sleeping for days at a time, and playing messenger between Uru Baen and the nearby cities. He was constantly hungry with so much work going on, and while he did manage to get enough sleep, his body and mind were slowly wearing down. He needed a day to relax, but his spare time was spent preparing Thorn for his participation in the North and teaching Murtagh when Galbatorix could not find the time to do so himself.

It was only after three weeks of constant strain that Shruikan found a moment to stop and breathe. It was in the evening and he was sitting with Galbatorix in the giant library, neither willing to surrender to the night quite yet. He was staring out the window watching the sun disappear and give way to darkness when his rider spoke up from across the room.

"Is something bothering you?" Galbatorix asked out of courtesy, knowing it was true through their bond. While they both were tired, it was worry in Shruikan's eyes not exhaustion. The King brought his glass of wine to his lips hoping the drink would help him sleep later that night, and waited for Shruikan to hear him. The dark dragon was obviously lost in his thoughts so Galbatorix didn't mind being patient.

After a few minutes, Shruikan sighed. _I am worried, rider. I left the Elundari of her father, Iormungr, with her. _He did not turn away from the window, but he did close his eyes. Apprehension was plastered all over his mind, and as a result his thoughts were not as collected, nor as guarded, as they should have been.

"And you think Iormungr will reveal something he shouldn't?" Galbatorix looked at his dragon over the rim of his glass, taking a slow sip of the drink before setting it down on the table to his right. This time, Shruikan turned towards him before speaking.

_Not something against the Empire, but against me. I do not want him to spark bad feelings between us when I have barely started to earn her trust, _Shruikan closed his eyes and shifted where he sat, trying to fight back all the disastrous scenarios flying through his head.

Galbatorix nodded slowly, thinking it over and finding the best thing to say. "Do not worry, Shruikan. Iomungr is a good dragon. He likes you, and he likes your cause. If anything, I'd think he'd praise you, and encourage her to spend time with her own kind." Of course, there was something gnawing at Galbatorix's mind. "What possessed you to give her such a gift with that possibility hanging over your head? Without consulting your rider, no less?" Least to say Galbatorix had been a tad surprised when word got to him about Shruikan giving her the Elundari. He trusted his dragon, of course, but usually they talked things over with each other before doing anything that significant.

_I want her to like me, _Shruikan whispered, going back to staring out the window overlooking the city and the lands to the east. He could look on for miles, and if it were closer, he might've even seen the manor where the Elundari in question was resting.

Galbatorix nodded, as it was understandable. With his kind in so few numbers, of course Shruikan wanted to connect with them all and hold them as friends. At the idea Galbatorix raised an eyebrow, _she **is** the last female. _He was tempted to prod but did not and instead turned the focus and asked about her health and the wellbeing of her eggs.

_The hatchlings inside are both well and eager to hatch, yet something holds them back. I want to know what. _Shruikan knew he would be asking the Elundari for their advice in the morning_._

"If they do not know, remember you have a whole library at your disposal should you need it," Galbatorix added as he stood and left his glass on the table next to him. "Goodnight Shruikan," he yawned, and received a nod before exiting the room. He left before he could see the mischievous glint spark in Shruikan's eye.

He trailed his way to his room and sat on his bed for a moment before bending to undo his boots. He kicked them away and began to unbutton the front of his shirt when he was interrupted by a knock at his door. Sighing, he left his tunic half undone, exposing part of his chest, and threw open the door. "Trianna," he greeted her, looking her directly in the eyes. She glanced away for a second as if remembering the reason she came.

He watched her dip down in a curtsey, "Shruikan said you called me?" _Dammit Shruikan, _the King thought, resisting the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. His eyes trailed down from her own to her neck, and he knew by the swell of her breasts that a corset lay underneath her gown. Trying to ignore that fact he instead focused his eyes onto her face. He assumed she knew the dragon had lied to her, which brought up the question of why she would come anyway, and since she had, why not come wearing something a little easier to rip off? Not that Galbatorix minded. He liked properly undressing a woman to lead up to sex. Figuring Shruikan must've told her that too, he fought to play it cool and not get ahead of himself.

"I did not; the dragon must have misunderstood me," he answered calmly bowing his head to her once and pretending to end the conversation, "goodnight." Moving to close the door, he actually hoped she had enough courage to stop him from ending their night before it even started. _Seven hells, what am I, fifteen again? _He cursed his eagerness knowing it would be his downfall. Much to his dismay, his heart leapt when she stopped him from shutting the door in her face and forced himself to reopen it slowly, feigning disinterest. Thinking back to how many months it had been since he laid a woman, he blamed that for his bubbling enthusiasm. Muttering a silent spell to keep himself from looking too _excited_ and to prevent his own embarrassment.

It was only after he closed the door with a soft click that he took the time to fully look her body up and down. Perhaps it was a good thing she had come here as he was a fool not to call upon her sooner. Even though he had spotted her a few times in the halls and occasionally in the kitchen he hadn't really paid her much mind until now, another thing he found himself regretting. In truth, she was beautiful, her fair skin contrasted nicely with her dark hair but he found no words to convey this. Being a man, it was only a matter of time before his eyes were drawn to her cleavage again and he inhaled slowly. Just as he was about to do something, however, she turned to face him fully and spoke. "Why do you avoid me, your grace? Do I not interest you?" His exhale was audible and he tried to think of something witty to say. It was not often he found himself lost for words. Damn this woman for having such an effect.

"I was a fool for not calling on you sooner," he admitted, knowing right then it was the only thing he could say without sounding like an ass. The edges of her mouth fluttered up at the corners and he fought down the urge to grin back at her. Granted, she was comely enough to be a Queen, but he didn't even know if she would make a good lay. Now he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in sharing his life with a woman, but he was stuck in a precarious position between immortality and loneliness, and royalty and betrayal. Anyone he brought close to his heart always tried to carve it out of his chest, and he was not keen to repeat that process again. Shaking his head, he vowed to at least fuck her before overthinking such things. If she proved to be a good woman then he'd evaluate on it later.

To bring his own attention away from her, Galbatorix moved across the room and finished what he had started before she arrived. He flung his shirt away and rubbed his face, muttering yet another spell to focus himself. One could not play the game if his thoughts strayed to the striking woman in the room with him. That's what this was: a game. She was moving her pieces across the board and so far her moves were exquisite. Now he just had to be smarter, better. Easy enough, he had been playing far longer than her, since before she was born.

Trianna's eyes trained onto his head but she found her gaze trailing down his back, giving up her desperate attempt not to leer at him. So it was true what was said about the king and his ever young appearance. She knew from history books he was born a good 120 years before she was, yet in her mind she doubted he let himself age a day past 30. It was a good look on him to say the least, any younger and people would underestimate him, any older and a body might start to complain from strain. She could see the muscles in his shoulders ripple as he removed his clothing and her mind whipped back to what was to come. Was this what she had lowered herself to: sleeping with a man before she was married? How else would she convince him that he wanted her around? It wasn't like she planned on giving him an illegitimate child, but the idea of heirs did thrill her. Thanks to a certain tea she could brew the next morning, she had no worries about bastards, and if it came to it she would replace any other women in the King's life no matter how sore it made her. After making a mental note to find a spell to help her with that as well, Trianna turned her focus back to the King who now stood facing her.

Dark freckles dusted over his shoulders despite how tan his skin was, and she reasoned he must do most of his outside work without a shirt on. It seemed his front was as impressive as his backside, making Trianna glad. What would she have done if Galbatorix turned out to be a wrinkly old man? Fighting off a shudder, she stepped towards him and shrugged her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall to floor behind her. The air wasn't cold, but against the bare skin of her neck, collarbone and shoulders Trianna felt it raise goose bumps. That might've also been the way the King was looking at her.

Galbatorix prided himself on being a patient, controlled gentleman just as he was raised to be, but right then he could care less on how rude he was being. He wanted her dress gone so he could undo the hooks of her corset and rip of her chemise. His legs carried him until he stood mere inches away from her, reminded of how unusually tall she was for a woman of her race, which brought up the brief thought of her being a hybrid, but he pushed that idea down and placed his hands on her neck. Her skin was cold compared to his and Galbatorix gleefully thought of a good way to warm her up.

By trailing his hands down her front, barely grazing her skin, and placing his lips to the side of her neck he prompted the response he had been looking for. Trianna shivered and gasped at the contact but made no move to try something back. When his hands found the front of her dress he helped her slide out of the garment, trying not to rip it in the process as she'd need something to wear when she left. The upside of being careful was it made the act far more sensual, full with light brushes and soft kisses instead of needy grabbing and rough bites. In truth Galbatorix was normally far less ceremonial when it came to undressing a woman, but something in the back of his mind was telling him this time was different. She was no whore and he refused to treat her like one.

By making his way back up he found himself at the top of her breasts where the flesh swelled, heaving with her struggling breath. He almost chuckled at the thought of her losing her breath, but when she gasped again he figured it would be better to rid her of the restraining garment before she full out fainted on him. Corsets weren't made for such rigorous exercise, after all, and Galbatorix enjoyed what lay on the other side too much to leave it on her. The loops of the busk would give him no trouble, but he curled an arm around her back to undo the lacing there to make removing it easier. Where normally he would just rip the lacing away and be done with it, he took his time with the knot, slowly untying instead.

With her breasts free and nearly bare to his eyes, Galbatorix threw the tight corset away and herded her towards the bed, half carrying and half pushing. Her chemise was the only thing between him and her chest, and he was quick to rid her of that as well. With a knee between her legs and a hand by her head, he couldn't help but smile as he traced his way down to her navel. It was only fair that she had the same amount of skin exposed as he did, and he was quick to take a nipple into his mouth and the other in his hand.

Taking his time to make her squirm made the burning of his groin heighten, and thankfully he remembered the spell he put on himself before the feeling turned painful. Removing his mouth to mutter and let go of the magic, Galbatorix was suddenly aware of how tight and uncomfortable his pants had grown. It was only then he lifted himself off her enough to reach down and undo the lacings, only for his eyes to widen: Trianna's own hands had wormed their way down and beat him to it. Suddenly breathing a bit heavier, the King lifted himself up and left the bed to rip off his own clothing, but he was only gone for a second before he was back between her legs.

The woman below him amazed him again by taking control only moments after he raised her legs and left her to lock them around his waist, kneeling between her legs. Trianna heaved herself up and he found himself leaning back on his heels with her delectably close to his manhood. She was pressed full flushed against him, forcing him to sling an arm around her and hold her there. It had been many years since a woman wasn't so scared of him she did something like that, and immediately Galbatorix remembered how thrilling the feeling was. "I figured you for one who likes your women aggressive," she purred onto his lips and Galbatorix groaned knowing it was true. Cursing his weakness for her and everything she was doing to him, he kept her from saying anything more by crushing her lips with his own.

Knowing of a little spell that would kindle the fire he could feel starting in her loins, Galbatorix took the time to whisper it in her ear and enjoy her trembling. Most reckoned him the kind to do his business and be done with it, but in his opinion it was no fun if the woman beneath him was faking instead of gracing him with a genuine climax in return for his own. He was generous like that. That and he preferred to spend his time on her instead of the dreaded morning where he would be forced to act like a king again. In the bedroom he could be whoever he wanted, and if she valued her life she would not spill his secrets once they were finished it. It was only here a certain softness could be found from the King; a hole in his masquerade ready to be exploited and widened. As she moaned and writhed on top of him Galbatorix felt his mind grow blissfully hazy, losing his conscience slowly to her sounds brought by his hands, the smell of her skin and her readiness, and the tastes of sweat on her neck. In hindsight he would shake his head at his lack of self-control, but when he finally pushed into her and broke through her resistance he could care less.

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TWO MONTHS.

It took me two months (nearly three) to get another chapter up. Isn't that ridiculous? xD Anyways, I hope the lemon was believable and that a few of you will tell me so because it is nothing like the one I wrote the first time around (the 4,000 words that got deleted) but it does serve the same purpose. It **hopefully **explains the beginning of their relationship, Trianna's plans, and a bit of Galbatorix's character.

**Next Update: 7/4/2012 I promise! **


	50. Let's Get Started

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

Just boring talk stuff, but it does explain some things. Hopefully you can trudged through it. And it was getting so long I cut out a few parts from the original chapter plan, but it doesn't matter now! :D

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There was not many times in all his years that Galbatorix found himself so on edge he was sweating with nervous knots in his stomach. This was one of those few times. The King stood at the door of the manor, knowing just inside the door held the young rider that had eluded him for the past five years. Through a miraculous turn of events the boy had gone from fighting against the Empire to practically signing his allegiance to Galbatorix's cause. Of course, these events had only happened in the past two years or so, but Galbatorix liked to think it had been happening all along, and for a reason. He had taken the time many nights to imagine what the young man was like, and how different things would have been had the blue egg not been stolen before her rider had been found and training begun. Sighing and collecting his thoughts, Galbatorix looked back to Shruikan just as the dragon bowed his head and launched into the sky, headed for the Dragon Keep behind the main building in search of the blue dragoness. This left Galbatorix alone to face the younger rider despite having Shruikan still present in the back of his mind. Shaking his head, the anxious King reached a hand up and knocked on the solid wooden door lined with thick metal bands.

Deciding it would be best not to be standing directly in the doorway, Galbatorix took a step back just in time to hear footsteps approaching. Unless he had overestimated Eragon height and build, it was not the rider moving towards the door but the elf-dwarf woman Shruikan had warned him about. The strides were too quick and light to be a man's, if not Eragon was more elf than Galbatorix had assumed. Taking one last deep breath he summoned the loose bits of his courage and watched the door open. His eyes immediately dropped a solid foot to the gaze of the young woman before him and he couldn't help but smile at her wide eyes. Everyone was always shocked to see him, "oh hello… who are you?" Her voice was pleasant and surprisingly perky, and his smiled stayed. This seemed to relax her a bit and he understood the train of thought in her head without having to enter her mind. What kind of man smiled before doing something sinister? Durza had, and he hoped she didn't let people enter the manor on this mindset.

"My name is Galbatorix, milady. Perhaps you have heard of me," he watched the corner of her mouth flutter up after he kissed her knuckled softly, careful not to drag out the action should Eragon walk up behind her. Shruikan had advised him not to flirt with this woman should he encounter her as the younger rider had laid an unspoken claim on her. Surprisingly, it was easy for Galbatorix to ignore the urge to fluster her. In fact, there was barely any urge at all. Maybe he was just too nervous for it. What else could it be? "Rhonny, I presume?"

Rhonny's eyebrows popped up at his name yet she couldn't help the blush on her cheeks when he greeted her so properly. When was the last time anyone had paid her such respect? _Never, _she resolved, and decided she liked the idea of being some ones "milady." "Indeed I have, and you presume correctly. I'm guessing you are here for Eragon's company and not my own?" Unknown to her, Rhonny was making it a bit harder for Galbatorix not to play a word game with her.

"Do not judge yourself so harshly, young one. If I had the chance I would surely spend more time with you," he had not meant it to be salacious, but at the blush of her cheeks he realized she took it that way. To his greatest thanks she grinned up at him and swung the door open to let him in instead of taking offense. Upsetting the woman Eragon had apparently fallen for would do no good for the meeting at hand.

"Stay here, I'll get him," Rhonny chirped before bounding away. Galbatorix kept his amusement hidden when she practically skipped towards the stairs. It occurred to him as he looked around that they had made no move to personalize the large manor. Maybe it was because they hadn't gotten to it, or maybe they didn't care. The building was clean and relatively homey even with only the last occupant's furniture and possessions inside. He was obviously standing in a sitting room and down the hall he could clearly see a medium sized kitchen. _Perhaps it would be better if I sat down, _he reasoned. He'd just have to stand back up again, but he figured it was best not to be standing there the whole time.

Galbatorix was well aware the effect his height had on most he met. He had been tall to begin with in his youth but given Shruikan's abnormal size as well, Galbatorix now bordered on 7 feet instead of the normal 6. Should he ever find issue with this he would merely change it with a quick spell, but never once had he changed for someone else. He wasn't about to start now.

Sitting there and trying not to look too bored, Galbatorix listened to the sound of footsteps above him. One was obviously Rhonny's and after a few moments he heard someone else walk above him and head towards the staircase. This was it. After five years he was finally going to meet the rider that had eluded him for so many years. Shruikan had told him so much about the boy, but it was more of a tease than anything. He needed to know more, he wanted to know more. Filled with the desire to take the young man under his wing and make a full-fledged rider, the King placed his hands on his knees and squeezed to relieve some of the tension building in his system. _Seven hells Galbatorix, you sound like you're in love with the boy. _The idea made him snort under his breath, and thankfully he collected himself just as Eragon reached the bottom of the stairs.

So began the game of eyes. Galbatorix looked up from Eragon's boots to his face, finding the boy sizing him up in a very similar way. _May as well prove her right,_ the King thought knowing Rhonny had undoubtedly mentioned something about his stature. He stood slowly rather than quickly, not wanting to startle the boy. Eragon's eyes visibly widened when he had to look up to meet his gaze and his mouth opened and closed one or twice as if at a loss for words. Deciding to put him out of his misery, Galbatorix spoke for the both of them and broke the silence, "Eragon." It was as much of a greeting he was going to offer until he determined how the other rider was going to react to his presence.

"King Galbatorix," Eragon answered after a moment's pause and the giant man in front of him nodded in confirmation. The King wasn't anything like how he had pictured all these years, yet he was. There were no cruel scars marring his face and neck, no demonic protrusions from his arms or shoulders, and no wicked teeth displayed from his jaw. Had Rhonny not told him who it was he never would have guessed this was Galbatorix. Yet Eragon could see the features he had been expecting. Galbatorix was obviously tall but he looked unimaginably strong too, and his face was calm, controlled. Maybe this was the king he had been expecting. The voice was deep like Shruikan's, but far less alien and smoother than the dragons own raspy sound. Checking briefly with Saphira he confirmed the dark dragon was here as well, meaning he could not call for her and face this meeting, this man, with her. Eragon was alone, and while he was certainly anxious, he was not frightened. Nothing about this man before him told him he should be afraid. Respectful, yes, but not afraid.

"King, or Galbatorix, both is a bit redundant," the man answered, and Eragon nodded in response. Knowing he wasn't comfortable with calling Galbatorix "my King" just yet, Eragon stayed silent. Allegiance to his man, or the thought of it rather, did not bother him as much as he thought it might. Maybe they were off to a better start than he thought. They couldn't stand and stare at each other all day, and knowing this Eragon took a step forward and extending an arm to be shaken. It was the first move in the beginnings of their relationship. In hindsight, Eragon would be glad he did it instead of acting like a fool, but for now the action just sent his nerves scrambling.

Galbatorix spared the boy a smile, understanding the young rider was just as uneasy towards him as vice versa. Accepting the hand offered Galbatorix spoke, "it's good to finally meet you, young rider." Eragon seemed to calm at the sound of his voice, another reason why the King kept his odd features around new people. In his experience, low sounds soothed people and his voice was just that. He noted calluses on the boy's hand and remembered all the information he had ever gathered, specifically about his early life on a farm. Some might find it creepy that their King could find out anything about anyone, but Galbatorix needed such connections to keep track of his citizens. Besides, he wasn't about to tell the boy he had kept track of his life.

"Please, have a seat," Eragon answered, and Galbatorix returned to the chair he had used earlier. Eragon sat across from him. Soon they were back to the game of eyes. Galbatorix had been hoping the boy would take initiative, proving to him he was a go getter. His hopes were answered, "Why are you here?"

Galbatorix outright grinned at his tactlessness, resisting the urge to shake his head. "I figured after five years it was time to finally meet you. Surely there is no way you would've heard a thing or two about me, most not great, and I want to sweep those rumors aside." Galbatorix looked him right in the eye but did not try to seem intimidating. The last thing he needed now was a misunderstanding. "Is there anything you'd like me to start with?"

Eragon didn't even think before his mouth opened, "the war." He watched Galbatorix sigh and shake his head. Probably not the first thing the King wanted to talk about, but Eragon needed to know. "Why did it start? How?" he watched the King glance down to his feet before staring back at him, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"It was only a couple hundred years after humans had been accepted into the Rider's Pact. There were only a couple dozen of us, outnumbered 4 to 1 by elven riders. Prejudice still existed between the two races and joining us into the Pact did nothing to quell the hatred. If anything it made it worse. One day, a few of my friends and I travelled beyond human lands and some young elven riders thought it best to teach us a lesson." Galbatorix visibly swallowed, trying to regain control of his tongue and to wet his mouth. "After the death of my first dragon we grouped together and started a rebellion."

Eragon's eyes had widened at Galbatorix. _Elves- But Urgals —surely- Islanzadi would not have allowed such a thing to happen. _His immediate thoughts were quieted by the knowing that yes, Islanzadi would. His face hardened with understanding, but softened at the idea of losing his dragon. Had he lost Saphira he would've gone insane. "Did you lead the assault?" He assumed there was a fight of some kind, how else would all the riders disappear? Then he thought of something else, "Where did Shruikan come in?"

"There was a clash, and we were slaughtered. Only I and a handful survived, the others were either killed on the spot or captured as prisoners. The Old Order tried to play nice by saying if we surrendered we would not be harmed but we knew better. It was after we refused to give up they begin executing the captives. It was only then I found myself appointed leader. Why? Because that is when Shruikan showed up. Jarnunvosk had been his love, and he was determined to help us. So we alliance with the Wild Dragons against the Elven Riders… The rest is to be explained by proper records resting in the castle library."

"But how did Shruikan manage to rally all the wild dragons for your cause? Was he in some sort of high position?" As far as Eragon knew wild dragons had no established order, but how else could Shruikan pull it off? The black dragon was charismatic, yes, but not enough to start a war. He watched Galbatorix nod and grin, chuckling.

"You could say that. You could also say Shruikan turned his kind against their King and took over from there. The Wild dragons had a similar cause to ours, so it only made sense for us to unite. But **that** is most certainly for another time, Eragon." Galbatorix gently warned the young rider not to ask more on the subject and Eragon wisely listened. After a moment, Galbatorix decided to play along and ask a question of his own. "How old were you when you found Saphira's egg?" he knew the answer already, but it was something to get the boys mind off the war as a whole.

"I was nearly fifteen. I went hunting in the spine one day and there she was. She ruined my hunt so I had to try to sell her as a precious stone. That obviously didn't work," Eragon grumbled, hating how stupid he sounded. Trying to sell a dragon egg for a few pounds of meat? Truly stupid.

Galbatorix eyed him, knowing now would not be a good time to chuckle, "you are very young, and based on the fact you were raised in Carvahall I'm guessing you do not know how to read or write."

"I know my letters!" But they both knew what Galbatorix said was true. Eragon may know his letters, but he did not know how to sequence them to make words, nor fit them to prewritten words. At the most he could read a few sentences before giving up. He could, however, write his name. Something he was very proud of and thankful for.

Galbatorix spared him a forgiving look, "illiteracy is something we can fix. Teaching you will be quite simple if you are willing to work." The King leaned back in his chair and sized the younger rider up again, "and I sense once you have something to aim for you stop at nothing. Drive is more important than a few letters, Eragon, believe me on that." The boy looked up from the floor where his ashamed gaze had fallen. Hope was in his eyes, as well as a bit of cheer.

They talked about more mundane things like what types of training Eragon had received and how much he had seen of the Empire, what the Elven forest looked like and how strange elves were, who was allied to who and why. When they seemed to run out of things to talk about it was well into the afternoon and Eragon's mouth was dry. He excused himself for a drink of water and brought the King back one as well. Looking at the larger man over the brim of his glass Eragon decided Galbatorix was very, very smart. That much became apparent after so much talk.

Then they talked over the castle and the riders once Eragon asked how he would fit in with everything going on at once. Galbatorix took a moment to drink one last time before explaining everything does, from magical training, physical conditioning, schooling and ultimately, ruling. "Ruling?" Eragon repeated, confused, and Galbatorix leaned forward in his chair to emphasize what he was about to say.

"Eragon, over anything else what is expected of riders is their mind. We decided what to do with the land and the people. Can't have men without a bit of common sense making those types of decisions, can we? So Murtagh rules with me, he can influence my opinions. King is just a showpiece title; the real decisions are made in a secret room with the two of us, Shruikan and Thorn, and a handful of other very, very smart men. If you thought the Empire was a dictatorship, you were wrong."

Eragon sat silently for a moment. "I had no idea Murtagh was so involved in things," Galbatorix smirked a bit and for once Eragon caught the expression before the King hid it. "Will I have the same duties then?"

"Most of them yes, but instead I was thinking of giving you run of this region. Murtagh holds the lands just north of the castle and he has told me he doesn't want any more. Governing a small section of the map is good practice, especially in times of war. Do you think you are up to it?" Eragon looked to the floor again, and for a moment Galbatorix feared he would decline.

"Only if someone is there to help me," Eragon mumbled slightly.

"Oh of course boy! We wouldn't just give you a part of the Empire and then leave you on your own!" It was here they hit another lull. They passed around idle topics for another hour or so, sharing another drink but this time of the alcoholic variety. Many questions flew through their minds but were left unvoiced. Perhaps they would be addressed next time. Maybe they were too personal to be addressed ever. Either way the two riders chatted until they hit another sensitive –albeit very important and anticipated—topic.

"Tell me about the Elven Front, up to the north. I want to know what's going on," Eragon was eager to hear everything but Galbatorix slowed him down when he started spewing off specific questions.

"Calm down boy. I'll get to it all… The Elven front is retreating for the most part but the morale of the elves is still too high for them to be crushed significantly. We have retaken control over Gil'ead and pushed them back to the lake, but I fear the tides will not be in our favor for long. Fighting on two fronts is never good, and preparing to fight on another is terrible. The morale is down as well, deserters left and rights"

"Wait, a third front? Are the dwarves mounting an individual attack or is there something else? Why is morale down with the recent victories?" Eragon wanted to help, but first he had to understand.

"Ships with foreign sails have been spotted up and down our shores, Eragon. Either this means my allies from across the sea have arrived or we have yet another front to fight. As for morale, it is down over these past few years because… of you."

"Me…" It was like a blow below the belt, and Eragon tried terribly to fight the hurt from his face.

"You… I thought about asking you to prove to the army you're on our side and undoubtedly bring their spirits up, but Shruikan warned me it would make you uncomfortable and wouldn't help you to settle into your new home." Eragon seemed to stop and think. It only took a second for Galbatorix to realize he was telling Saphira too. The young rider talked it over with his dragon for a moment before his eyes came back into focus suddenly.

"We want to do it. If we're going to join the Empire, we may as well make it public, right?" Galbatorix stared at him like he grew a second head before regaining his composure. "And Saphira wants to get back at the Elf Queen anyway she can, so why not?" Unknown to them, Saphira was hoping to be the one to personally bite Islanzadi's head off.

"Eragon… consider what you are saying before you give me such hope, please." Eragon inhaled deeply, knowing his answer before he even thought it over. When the younger rider nodded in confirmation, Galbatorix full out grinned. "Let's get started then."

* * *

So for people that don't know inches and such Galbatorix grew up to be around 193 cm only to continue to 208 cm after so many years bonded with Shruikan. And for inch people who want that specifically, the King is 6 feet 10 inches tall :D Insane right?

**Next Update: 7/7/2012 **


	51. Public Relations

I'll be at a camp for three days next week, so enjoy this extra long chapter in case I don't get another up before I leave. Also to make up for the wait since the last update. Heh xD

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

* * *

At first Eragon had been wary leaving Rhonny alone in the castle to guard Saphira's eggs, perhaps more than the mother dragon herself, but Galbatorix managed to convince him. The younger rider knew he would miss the sandy haired woman more than a lesser man might admit. As they flew to Uru Baen for the first time he had held her tightly, resting his chin on her shoulder and closing his eyes. They had said goodbye the night before, and to his shame Eragon knew he would be yearning for her mind and her touch equally while he was gone. That wasn't to say he had given into the urge to bed her, but the half-elf half-dwarf had taught him a thing or two about pleasuring a woman. Practice makes perfect, she had said to him, and he submitted knowing he wouldn't have lasted much longer without breaking. That, and Eragon wanted to make her happy no matter what, even if that meant getting creative.

When they arrived, they received an overwhelming welcome. While it was only the city of Uru Baen to cheer for them from the streets that did not mean Eragon and Saphira didn't feel flattered when the people of the Empire crowded the gates of the castle and roared with excitement. Sharing a look with his dragon, Eragon allowed himself to grin. _This sure beats any welcome we've gotten before, _he offered to Saphira, but the blue dragon did not answer him. Shrugging, he helped Rhonny down, smiling as she protectively tucked to her chest the pack holding the two eggs. Saphira made no comment, unusually quiet as they made their way up the steps towards the main door. Shruikan thought it best not to greet them at the door as they might all get stuck on their way in, but Galbatorix himself was standing there with something akin to approval on his face.

"They like you," the king's voice rumbled, ever deep, and Eragon looked up to him. The royal was dressed in relatively plain clothes, just a well fitted tunic and clean trousers, but Rhonny was taken aback by his presence. Her reaction did not go unnoticed, for while Eragon talked to the King and looked back to Saphira, who towered behind them, Galbatorix looked in her direction and winked at her playfully. A lady might blush and look down, but Rhonny was no lady, and suddenly there was a grin on her face. She silently resolved this man she could have fun with, but not before quirking an eyebrow in his direction discreetly. Word games were fun, teasing games were even better. It saddened her that both Eragon and the king were to be gone for nearly a month. Hopefully there was someone around that Galbatorix could trust enough to allow her to talk with.

Turning and leading them down the long halls, Galbatorix explained he wanted all three dragons to make an appearance together at the front along with their riders. He also let it slip that it would give them the opportunity to get to know each other better and work together. Over the course of an hour they had Rhonny settled into a room and Saphira's eggs tucked away. Shruikan met them in a large hall and swept Eragon and Saphira away, leaving Galbatorix to escort Rhonny around the castle after Eragon kissed her goodbye once again (and certainly not for the final time). The King, standing a solid foot above her, peered down impishly. Rhonny found herself giggling at his charming words and being led around by the arm on a basic tour of the grounds.

It was only after the half dwarf was reunited with her young rider betrothed that Galbatorix allowed himself to slip away in search of the only woman he wanted to spend his day with. Rhonny was pleasant enough, and that was an understatement, but despite himself the King held a certain attachment to the young sorceress Shruikan had kidnapped for him. Shaking his head at that train of thought, Galbatorix entered the one room she spent her days in: the spell room. Trianna liked the library as well, and the bedroom of course, but she spent the majority of her time in the magicians room practicing tirelessly.

Galbatorix stood in the doorway watching her struggle with a small orb of energy between her palms, back to the door. Moving silently, he approached her smaller form only to slide his arms around hers and use the guise of helping her control the spell as an excuse to hold her. "Remember it will fight you to be free. Give it a bit of wiggle room," he advised, inching her hands apart to give the barely contained spell room to pulse and move around. Had he view of her face, he would've spotted her eyes widen and an accomplished grin appear. She wasn't too proud to accept his help, but she was determined to master it in private while he was away. As it was he had already assigned her a sequence of spells to work on during his absence.

Trianna then grinned for different reasons, forcing the energy seep back into her veins instead of letting it go. She leaned back against the King, her back of her head reaching the middle of his chest only because she was tall for a woman. "I thought you had left already," one could hear her smile in her voice, and in response Galbatorix trapped her in a cage of his arms.

"You'll not be rid of me just yet, pet," he growled, but his heart wasn't in it. He was too happy to scold her properly on her eagerness to be rid of him. She was just teasing him anyways, he was sure of it. Her soft laughter calmed him, nerves from the day's happenings slowly fading. Never had he thought a woman could have such an effect on him, the only one ever before he had lost. The thought scared him more than he cared to admit, so he distracted himself by bending down and nuzzling his face into her neck. He sought something to say to her to move the conversation along but found himself too content with their current position to ruin it with words.

Instead, it was Trianna who spoke, "If not today, then will you take your leave, your grace?" He smiled into the skin of her neck and let her leaned back fully, supporting her. This was not the first time she had pressed herself against him but his body responded all the same. Perhaps it was the thought of her rear pressed against his groin and the feel of the heat that lay there that made his manhood twitch eagerly. It was shameful she did even have to move in a tempting way for him to suddenly be ready to take her all over again. Galbatorix let loose a growl much like a dragon would and his arms lowered to wrap around her hips instead of her waist. His hands moved to trace little circles there as he thought of all the things he wanted to do to her. Of course, he'd have to respond sometime, and he'd rather not do it when they were actually _busy. _

"Tomorrow at dawn," he rasped, reining back his raging arousal, or trying to, at least. It seemed to be working until she shifted from one foot to the other and successfully rubbed her rear against him. The King shuddered and pulled her closer only to push her to a nearby table. Not liking the idea of not being able to kiss her as he liked too, he flipped her around and sat her down on the wooden edge, finding his place between her legs again. Trianna was laughing at his enthusiasm. She hadn't pushed him away yet, so he went for it.

Being the tease she was, Trianna did not remind him of the other business they had to tend to until he was painfully ready and he had begun to hitch her skirt up past her knees. He stilled then, growling again, and she felt his hands clench on her thighs possessively before he pulled away. To his delight, however, Galbatorix watched her rake her eyes over the tent in his pants like she still couldn't believe it was just for her. The King grinned, somewhat feral looking, and helped her hop down off the table he had lifted her onto only to trap her in his hands again. "Don't make a habit of this, pet, or I might stop following your orders," he whispered the warning into her ear, but he knew he could never hurt her in such a way. He could easily over power, but the idea did not appeal to him until she asked him to do so.

They played a game, still ongoing after a few weeks because they had yet to tire of it. She teased him, egged him on and pushed him until his control broke and that's when the real fun began. Trianna practically had the King in a collar leading him around by a leash, and nearly everyone in the castle could see it. They may have been worried if he had been anyone else, but no one could harm the King. As it was, he certainly wasn't complaining. Despite all their little game was, there was affection there as well. An inkling of love that was visible whenever they saw each other fleetingly between his meetings and when they both subconsciously brushed knuckles as they walked past each other in the halls. It was even there in times like these, when he held her for a moment longer than a King would hold his whore. She had promise as his BlackHand, yes, but Galbatorix would be a true fool if he tried to say he kept her around only for that reason.

No longer thinking with his cock, Galbatorix let go of her and led her to where they were to meet the younger two riders. Trianna had already admitted to her King that she had met Eragon before while working for the Varden, so they both spend the walk praying things went over smoothly. At first, Galbatorix had been upset (more upset than he had a right to be) at the idea of Trianna making a pass at Eragon years before. But she was his now, and Eragon had that hybrid girl, so he doubted it mattered now. He was right, as usual.

Eragon greeted Trianna with raised eyebrows but remained friendly towards her and introduced her to Rhonny. Saphira gave the young spell caster a nod of her head, and Galbatorix knew at once there were no grudges being held. "Trianna is in training to be the leader of the BlackHand," Galbatorix revealed, and Trianna beamed a giant grin. The King didn't remind the boy his mother had been a BlackHand, as that would bring up more questions than he would like to answer. He had no wish to bring the boys lineage into the spotlight, and especially not his brother's.

Speaking of the elder brother, Murtagh did not arrive until the meeting was nearly halfway over. They had already gone over the initial plan for their travels, and were busy delving into more important details when the young man walked in. Galbatorix shook his head, both at the boy's tardiness, and his mind's habit of labeling him as a boy when he obviously was not. When would he hang that practice up by the door and leave it there? _Thank god Morzan had been considered a tall man by human standards or questions might be raised, _the King thought as Murtagh sat down across the table from his brother. That was the last thing he needed in the middle of this war.

Hickeys could be seen on Murtagh's neck, more than one woman alone could make over one night alone. Murtagh also sat down slowly, back and arms obviously sore. Galbatorix only had to guess whatever whores he had spent the night with had taken to raking their nails down his skin, leaving gashes. The King sighed, turning his head to Thorn when the red dragon sat down behind his rider. "Thank you for _reminding _him, Thorn," he bowed his head in return to the "it's nothing" gesture he received from the dragon. They both knew Murtagh would have slept through this meeting had it not been for Thorn's persuasions.

The talk of the Northern front continued until Eragon, Saphira and Rhonny were as informed as Murtagh was. Trianna also learned a bit more about the elven assault but she did not need to listen as intently as the others. It was her job to keep the castle running (it practically ran itself anyways) and to keep working on her spells like Galbatorix had said. _Speaking of spells, _Trianna thought, looking up the table to her King. She had a surprise for him when they were alone that night, but she dared not tease him with that now.

It had only taken a few instances for Trianna to learn when Galbatorix was in the mood for playfulness, and when he was not. His loving side rarely came out when there were other people around, but when they were alone he acted like a completely different person. Admittedly, she wasn't as okay with this as she made it seem. It had been a startling realization to say the least, when Trianna realized she didn't want his love in secret, she wanted him to show her off as his lover and make his feelings known to the whole castle; the whole Empire. She wanted to be more than his lover too, she knew, and that would come with time, but she still did not like having to hide her feelings for him around others. To the world she was merely his BlackHand in training. What did she mean to him personally then? Was she just another lover to be cast away when she grew too old for his tastes?

The idea made her sick, and angry. Under the pretense she was feeling ill, she excused herself and never returned. Trianna made her way through the halls; she was trying to find somewhere she would not be bothered only to remember Galbatorix could find her wherever she hid whenever he wanted to. Sighing, Trianna closed the door to bedchambers behind her and slowly stripped herself bare hoping a nap would quiet her insecurities. It worked, but not without her absence going unnoticed.

Galbatorix stood in front of her door, frowning. He had known she had been lying the minute she made an excuse and left, but he had been forced to wait to go in search of her until the meeting was over and the rest of them parted ways until the following morning. Being denied earlier raised the hope she was going back to his room and planned on surprising him, but that idea was smothered quickly when his room was found empty. Deep down he knew something else was wrong. Was she unhappy? More importantly, was it his fault? That spurred him to reach out mentally, passing over servants and slaves in the hunt for her unique mind, only to find her in the one place he had never thought to look.

To his shame, the King had never actually visited her in her own room; he had always called her to his. It felt as if he was stepping over a boundary when he unlocked the door with a quick spell and snuck in instead of waiting for her to answer his knocks. Galbatorix found her lying under a thick layer of blankets, and had to stop to think up something to say. It was his job to make her feel better, was it not? That brought up the issue of **when **he had developed this mindset, but he pushed it aside for later when Trianna's eyes fluttered open. Deciding to go for it, the King stepped closer to her bedside and kneeled there. He crossed his arms over his chest and rested them on the mattress next to her. "Is something wrong?"

Her eyes opened fully at his voice, and he was overjoyed to see her smile at him without any strain shown on her face. His heart kick-started a bit when she reached out from underneath the sheets and ran a hand over his cheek, fighting to stifle a yawn. "No, I'm feeling better now," Trianna stretched herself out but made no move to get out of bed and make herself presentable. "What times is it?"

As he watched her, Galbatorix kept his eyes trained onto her face. It was a bit harder than he'd like to admit, but he felt it was not the best time to trail his eyes down to where he breasts peeked out from under the sheets and remind her how quickly his body reacted to the sight hers. "Past supper, my love. You slept through the afternoon." He smiled at her catty ways but knew he should reword his original question. "**Was** something wrong?"

Trianna looked down to avoid his gaze and her sleepy smile died. "There was," she admitted, caught between being happy he was concern and nervous he would be mad at her for leaving with such stupid reasons. When he smiled at her sadly she couldn't help but smile back. He wanted her to tell him willingly, and didn't want to press her for information if she was uncomfortable with it. The King was polite in that way thankfully. "I don't want to be hidden from the world, your grace." His brow creased as he tried to figure out what she meant. "If you mean to keep me as a lover and nothing more, you must tell me so I can learn to live with it. I was just hoping that one day…"

"One day you would be my Queen," Galbatorix finished for her when she trailed off nervously. He stayed silent for a few minutes before catching her eyes and holding her gaze. "You are not as hidden as you think. It is my fault for leaving out certain parts of the BlackHand description, but I feared such an idea would scare you off."

"What do you mean?" _Why is he going back to the BlackHand topic? Does the idea of marriage make him so uncomfortable he cannot bear it? _She nearly scowled but fought the expression back when he began to explain.

"The lead BlackHand is a woman of high origins who holds an incredible amount of magic in her blood. We've already discussed that and as you remember your lineage does not matter to me. But the BlackHand has many roles, including leading the group of magicians…and taking up the role of monarch." Trianna stared right back at him, fighting to find words to respond to him, but he merely smiled at her and continued talking. "Do you understand now? Everyone you have been introduced to not only knows of your training, but your role in my life as well. The whole castle knows of our relationship, along with every noble you have met and everyone I have mentioned you to. The Empire knows of a new BlackHand in training, and therefore, they know their new queen has come."

With her mouth open in shock and mind whirling, Trianna couldn't find the words to respond. Galbatorix smiled at her still, and chuckled as he reached and brushed a strand out of her face. Ashamed of herself the split second she did, Trianna said the first thing that came to mind, "what happened to you first BlackHand?" This didn't seem to strike a nerve with the King but his smile fell, his face taking on a thoughtful expression.

"She betrayed me for another and was removed from her position… But do not worry about that, pet," he stood and stooped over her to kiss her forehead before moving to whisper in her ear, "you will not betray me." The way he said left no room for argument, and Trianna whole heartedly agreed. She would not betray him. Yet even as she smiled at him, her mission lay in the back of her mind, guarded and under various locks, until the right day to execute it came along. She didn't even dare think of it should someone be in her head, and even then she could not remember her orders. They were to be activated with a specific word uttered by an unknown mouth, leaving her able to live day to day life like nothing was looming in the near future. As she thought of it, it turned hazy, like her subconscious couldn't even determine if such a thing existed or not, and at the confusion she let it go and turned her attention back to her King.

Trianna's smile grew into a grin when he set a knee on her bed and moved above her, lips finding her neck. It was then she remembered the spell she had studied the day before just for him. With a newfound hope and a heat pooling in her stomach, Trianna let go of all other thoughts and surrendered to him, pulling him down closer and preparing for the onslaught of tantalizing touches to come.

* * *

The next morning when the sun hadn't even fully risen over the horizon, Galbatorix found himself forced to leave her bed and make his way outside to the castle courtyard where Shruikan waited to be saddled. Eragon and Saphira were to one side of his dragon while Murtagh and Thorn readied themselves on the other. Galbatorix gave them all a polite nod or two, reaching up to scratch Shruikan on the chin once he stood in front of the giant dragon. _Sleep well? _Shruikan asked innocently, knowing his rider had been spending less time sleeping alone than before the sorceress came along. Galbatorix rolled his eyes only to look towards the giant doors that had been thrown open.

Trianna stood there with a purple dress on her hips, hair flowing down freely just the way she knew he liked it. Galbatorix grinned, knowing she had woken up a bit earlier than usual and liking the idea of her doing it just for him. She had yet to call him over, but he figured now was the perfect time to prove his point. If she wanted a public relationship, she was going to get it.

He marched his way up the steps towards that giant door, ignoring her pleasantries and her curtsey. Galbatorix bent down for a split second before he pulled her in for a kiss and swung her around, lifting her a solid foot off the ground without even trying, his hands on her waist. "Public enough?" He taunted, biting her lip wantonly before he set her back on the ground. His little display over he ducked his head down to the crook of her shoulder and nuzzled there, trying to savor the sweet smells of her perfumes and convert them to memory to endure the long journey ahead of him. It was the first time he had ever shown such a weakness in front of the others, and while Trianna was truly overjoyed she felt a split second of panic for her King. Would someone target them now that he had done this? Would there be someone after her now, threatening her life and in turn, his?

Galbatorix seemed to sense her growing fright because he chuckled and whispered in her ear much like the night before, "I will keep you safe. Just keep practicing your spells and be _ready_ when I get back." At any other time she would have chided him for ruining such a moment with something so crude, but then all she could do was squeeze her arms around his neck and then let him go.

"They are waiting," she reminded him, and the King nodded, removing his hands from her waist. He walked away from her backwards a few steps as if he couldn't take his eyes off of her, but then he turned around and strode back down the stone steps with his long legs. Trianna waved at him one last time as he climbed into Shruikan's saddle and strapped himself in. He winked to her, hoping she saw the minute action, and Shruikan swung himself around to lead the other two dragons away from the castle.

"Prepare for three long weeks of undying boredom and saddle sores," Galbatorix laughed darkly, and Shruikan raised his great wings. They shot into the sky, twisting only to see Saphira and Thorn take off behind them, and then they were on their way.

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More about Trianna and Galbatorix's relationship, a bit of info about the BlackHand, as well as a few hints to a twist if you look hard enough. These two are easily becoming my favourite pair *girly giggle* but I've got something else up my sleeve that should make you all go bug eyed. Also, I don't think I'll be diving into too much detail about their flight north. We'll see.

**Next Update: It's a surprise. **


	52. Tree Fuckers

A quickupdate for you all because I love you. Getting to something incredibly important by the way. I hope you like the next few chapters! :3

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

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It was over those three weeks of on and off flight that brought the two brothers closer together than even their previous adventure to the Varden several years ago. They went from tense words and awkwardly skirting around the other to hunting together through the woods while their dragons slept, sharing skills and advice. Galbatorix watched as Eragon listened to Murtagh's stories of his childhood, and it seemed the two bonded over the neglect and struggles that lay in both their lives. The pair took to sparring to burn a little excess energy and Murtagh's joy at Eragon's improvement since the last time they sparred was painfully apparent. Surprisingly, the two shared a hug and tears were brought to the surface when they talked of their mother. Galbatorix felt like he was being kicked in the gut when that happened, but he understood it was necessary for them both to move on.

Humor arose when women were brought up in conversation. Eragon held a permanent blush on his cheeks while Murtagh laughed so hard he was forced to hold his sides, and Galbatorix leaned against a tree a few feet off, staring at the youngest rider in disbelief. "Y-you've nev-never been with a woman?" Murtagh tried to speak in between gasps, wiping the tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes. Eragon grew a darker shade of red. It was not fair they judge him on such things, as Eragon had grown up in a small farming village that did not have the population to house a brothel, and where young folk were promised to each other by their parents as soon as they came of age. Eragon told his older brother so, and Galbatorix found his reasoning sound.

"He is right, Murtagh. Carvahall has no whores to call upon like the capital." Murtagh had both the standing and the money to visit any of the whorehouses, and had gotten into the habit of doing so once he hit the age of fifteen. Had his mother been around she surely would have put a stop to such behavior and made sure he was promised to a nice young lady, but Morzan did not pay attention to the boy. This left Galbatorix to assign him Tarnoc, a retired member of the Kingsguard and a loyal soldier, to raise and mentor him. The King considered this both his greatest mistake, and his best decision. He should have been in Murtagh's life more and protected him from his terrible father figure, but Tarnoc had done a better job than he could have.

At his King's words, Murtagh's laughter quieted only to be replaced by a mischievous look. "Then I'll treat you to a cathouse as soon as we return!" He was already looking forward to the idea of sharing such a wonderful experience with his younger brother. "Whores are a gift from the gods," he nearly moaned, falling back on his makeshift bed and earning a laugh from the King.

Galbatorix shared an amused grin with Eragon, "it says something when a man must pay for all of his women." It was here Murtagh's weakness showed. He had neither the patience nor the experience to earn a woman without flaunting his rank or his purse. It was the Red Rider's turn to flush and he tried to recover some of his dignity.

"Well you don't give me much time to do much else, old man, let alone court a woman full time," he growled, and behind him Thorn stirred in his slumber. Galbatorix merely grinned at him, happy to be a part of their conversations for once. He usually felt like such an old man when they talked, leaving him the odd man out.

"So you're saying you want me to not only let you slack off, but arrange a marriage for you as well?" Murtagh glared at him and Galbatorix laughed, sitting near the fire like the both of them. The two brothers faced each other from across the flames, and Eragon took the opportunity to put his share in.

"I appreciate the offer brother, but I don't think Rhonny would like the idea too much…" He feared her reaction if she ever learned he spent a night with a prostitute after promising to marry her. His brother rolled his eyes.

"Don't you think you could use a bit of practice beforehand?" Murtagh chortled at his own taunt, knowing Eragon was completely smitten for the half dwarf girl he had kidnapped along the Beor Mountains. While he had to admit Rhonny was quite the looker, he didn't like the idea of settling down. Eragon was going to live forever, why would he marry a mortal woman? He didn't dare bring that up however, as even in his slight drunken stupor from gradually sipping his way through a small bottle of ale Murtagh knew such a topic would upset his next of kin.

Eragon returned to blushing, knowing there was no way Murtagh could connect to "I want her to be my first" as the older boy obviously did not hold sex very highly nor the woman who gave it to him. Galbatorix took the opportunity to move the talk away from something so controversial. They held conversations every night they stopped and made camp, sleeping in the saddle more than they established a mental connection and spoke with each other that way. The dragons themselves got caught up, both on things Saphira needed to know, and stories Shruikan deemed acceptable to share with them.

After twenty-three days of flying, stopping at Bullridge and then finally Gilead where Lady Mareen held the Northern front, they were all looking forward to resting for a little while and doing anything else but travel some more. They settled into the city with the elven army on the horizon, filling the King with feelings of dread and disgust at the same time. He ushered Eragon and Murtagh into their rooms, made sure Shruikan and the other dragons were comfortable as well, and then dined with the Lady of the Lake once again. Mareen was happy to see him, but their talks were grave with little room for flirting or word games.

It was another week and then Shruikan reported word from Blodgharm, who said they were nesting in the remains of Ceunon and waiting for orders. Galbatorix sent Murtagh and Thorn to fetch them, something the pair did not seem to like the idea of. Murtagh cinched Thorn's saddle tightly, glaring at the thick, magic enhanced leather. His body had finally ceased aching after weeks of lying on the ground and hunching over in the saddle, and now Galbatorix was bidding he return to his punishment? Murtagh growled and buckled his saddle bags in place, lacing the knots in an intricate pattern as he had been taught. Zarroc hung from his hips, but he removed that seconds later to tie it to Thorn's back as well. When he swung up and secured himself into place, he looked down at his King and couldn't fight his frown.

Galbatorix offered him a sad smile, handing the poor man a small gift from Lady Mareen. "Cornbread. She heard it was your favourite," Murtagh scowled still, but he accepted the small square package regardless. This journey would be nearly as far as the one they had taken to arrive in the northern city, and another few days were added to the time needed as they had to fly around enemy occupied territory. "Fly fast, but do not strain yourself." Galbatorix added, and Murtagh nodded, shifting in his seat. Luckily for both he and Thorn, Galbatorix had enough magic to spare, enough to cushion their journey and make it bearable.

With one final snarl towards his terrible luck, Murtagh swung Thorn around and the pair launched into the sky. They gained speed and flew with the wind, another comfort, but they still weren't happy about it. Galbatorix sighed and shook his head. "I hate to do this to him, but I need you with me," he spoke to Eragon, who had also come to say goodbye to the Red Rider. His purpose here was merely for show, which he was okay with, but he was eager to get started.

"What would you have me do, my King?" Eragon asked, and they shared a look. This was the first time Eragon had acknowledged him as his liege lord. He wasn't exactly Galbatorix's vassal, but he did use the King's land, and he was now in his army, so while he was not in the records as such, he worked for the King. He was no conscript, the base of the whole Imperial Army. So really, Eragon did not have a place. He chose to serve, and owed nothing. But maybe he did owe something? Not funds, certainly, but something.

"I would have you and that dragoness of yours make yourselves seen by every soldier housed in this city and on the plains," Galbatorix answered and watched Eragon nod. The boy bowed his head once, already knowing what he could do to fulfill this request.

"As you say, your grace," he bowed his head again, trying not to lay the courtesies on too thick, and turned away. He headed to where Saphira rested, happy to have something to do. Galbatorix merely shook his head and remained watching the direction where Murtagh had flown. Worry could be in his eyes if one dared look close enough, but the King was forced to brush that aside when Mareen called his attention.

"So I hear you have a new BlackHand," the Lady of the Lake looked him up and down calmly, sipping from a small glass of wine. Galbatorix looked up at her from his seat, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his feet shoulder width apart on the floor. His hands were clasped together in front of him, his only way of keeping them from fluttering and flying as his mind raced. The topic change was a much needed distraction, one Galbatorix appreciated dearly. He smiled at her, knowing she was sizing him up.

"You've heard correctly, milady. Her name is Trianna," he spoke smoothly, wondering what she was playing at or if she was just curious. Unlikely, but still possible. After all, he and the ruler of Gilead had shared a bed many countless nights, so maybe that's what this was all about. Mareen nodded once or twice, seeming to consider this.

"I'm assuming she is a BlackHand in _all _aspects of the position," she prodded. Galbatorix grinned. He had guessed correctly. Mareen was an attractive woman; any man would be lying if he said otherwise. She had the full figure of a woman, ample breasts and round hips, her face was soft and clean and the hair on her head was thick. The King had to admit he would not mind fucking her once again, especially with Trianna so far away and out of his grasp. She was obviously still interested in him, so why not?

"Very much so, Mareen. She has proven she can handle the job," he added and Mareen poured herself more wine only to turn back around and pin him with a hard stare.

"But can she handle **you**?" She dared, and Galbatorix's eyes darkened, his grin now wicked. Standing, he made his way over to her and looked down at her, knowing he wouldn't have to try very hard to get her in bed. That was not to say she was easy, but the Lady of the Lake had always had a weak spot for her King, the first man to dare enter her bedchamber after her husband's untimely death.

"Not like you can," he whispered, knowing it was an absolute lie. Trianna was always on his mind, he pined for her daily when he could not have her. Those three weeks of flying had left him very frustrated, but he refused to stoop so low and pleasure himself. That was not what King's did. Perhaps that was why he wanted Mareen again? She knew his tastes and he knew hers. She was familiar, she was safe, but most importantly, she was there.

He was well on his way to undressing her when someone banged their fist on the door repeatedly. "Galbatorix, word from Teirm!" Eragon's voice sounded from the other side. The King quickly retracted his hands from her bodice and barked a spell to redo the lacing up the front of her dress to hide what they had been doing. He left her flushed and flustered to stride over to the door and slam it open.

The younger rider immediately let himself in, handing his King the sealed letter sent by spell all the way from the port city. The magic needed had most likely knocked out one of their local spell casters and at that Galbatorix rolled his eyes._ Could the damned sea rats just use a mirror to scry or something? _He tore the message open and read quickly, the muscles in his neck straining with tension as his nerves skyrocketed. Galbatorix glanced at the brown haired boy once and gestured for him to follow before he was suddenly stomping down the hall barking orders as he went. "Eragon, call in your dragon and gather your things, we leave for Tierm **tonight**."

"Without the Rid Rider, sire?" At this, Galbatorix slowed and finally stopped, looking down a giant staircase with city officials and castle guards alike looking back at him. Eragon brought up a good question: Should he wait for the Murtagh to return in a month's time? Should he return alone and instead leave Eragon here? Should he bring Shruikan if so? He shook his head and growled.

"Yes, without the Red Rider. We will not be flying, I will be teleporting us, so expect me to take energy from both you and Saphira. Go boy go!" He shooed the younger man away, taking the steps down four at a time in a very un-Kingly way. At the bottom of the stairs he turned and projected his voice back up to Mareen, who stood there, completely uninformed. "Lady Mareen, regretfully I have to excuse myself from your lovely city ahead of schedule. I beg your pardon at the unpleasant interruption, but it seems the Red Empire from across the sea has come to our aid!" Galbatorix's deep voice boomed over the cheers and clapping of the hall as he bowed to her one last time before charging towards the door.

He headed for the stables, where ironically Shruikan and Saphira had been lounging in the sun. Eragon had already set his saddle down nearby and begun to pile his possessions around it, spiking everyone's interest. Galbatorix knew he had to fill them all in and then address the mass of his army. The riders were leaving before they had planned, and news of new reinforcements would undoubtedly raise morale even more than their presence could. Shruikan took everything he needed to know from this rider's mind as Galbatorix made his way to the lower levels of the city, climbing the stairs to the top of the wall as fast as he dared.

There lay his forces, 40,000 strong, camped over miles upon miles of trampled prairie grass and under an endless sky. There were mountains in sight save for Marna, resting alone across the giant river to the east. To the north, Isenstar glistened in the afternoon sun, reflecting the light for all to see. Such good weather and pleasant conditions helped the men rest, made it easy to forget just beyond the raging white currents of the Rarm lay hordes upon hordes of forest dwelling "fair folk". The river was the last blockade between his army and Islanzadi's, and once the rains ceased and the water level fell, he would have a fight on his hands. For now, however, he looked over a still mass free of fear and frustration. Galbatorix grinned from ear to ear.

Behind him, Shruikan perched on the wall and stretched his neck to the sky, letting loose a frenzied roar. Immediately Galbatorix felt 40,000 pairs of eyes swing up to him, granting him their full attention. He expected nothing less, and he quickly muttered a spell that would let his voice be heard in the ears of every man camped before him. "Alagaesians, hear me! Fate turns in our favor, for after ten long years of war the precious Blue Rider has finally joined us, giving us an advantage. And let me give you another: while those **tree fucking cowards** have hidden in their forests and behind their self-proclaimed Queen, the Red Empire has sent a fleet of 10,000 strong to aid us. This war, this sorry excuse of a fight, will be over before those _knife ears_ have time to pull their cocks from the roots of the trees and pull up their pants. Soon you will be back to your wives, your children, your homes. That, I promise you."

The din from the resting army nearly deafened him, and he was glad he had chosen not to announce this in an enclosed area and instead out over the open plains. The cheers and hollers were enough to make him smile and leap unto Shruikan's back ceremoniously. Shruikan motioned for Saphira to follow him into the air, and soon they were dancing around each other above the great army. They twisted, flying straight to the sun, only to fall back and swoop down, flaring their wings over the crowds. It was only when they turned back around and met in the middle again, shooting straight up, that Galbatorix barked the enormous spell needed to send them to Tierm.

Eragon had to close his eyes and hold his breath as there was no air to breathe, only to suddenly feel the sun on his face once again. He peaked out from under his eyelids and found himself looking down on a sea of ships that floated on waves of white and raised sails of red. Shruikan hovered next to them, careful not to hit them with his giant wingspan. The giant black dragon graced them with a gruesome grin, and Galbatorix matched it with one of his own. "Eragon, prepare to meet the Red Empire."

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Introducing the Red Empire! 8D Awayyyyy~

Also, expect a bit more of Murtagh than ever before once he gets back from this little "ridin solo" expedition.

**Next Update: It's a surprise. **


	53. Admiral Darius

Enjoy! :D

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

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Teirm was thrumming with activity when they landed. The Red Fleet had docked and begun unloading supplies, from excess food and rum to strange looking weapons and foreign technology. Gods be praised, the sailors were relatively well behaved around the residents of the port city. They flocked to the taverns and brothels, their alien coins flooding the purses of local businesses. Crude silver, that is what the Alagaesians regarded the coins as, and took them. Silver was valuable no matter what shape it took, Eragon soon realized.

Saphira carried him through the streets, and they both noticed while the new soldiers did look on with wonder, there was no fear in their eyes. Eragon felt her heart leap with hope; _maybe they have dragons too, Eragon! _He smiled at the idea but said nothing in return, instead casting his all around. He had not been in Teirm in nearly five years, and even then it was only his second time inside the giant port. While the harbour looked much different with the hundreds upon hundreds of red sails bobbing on the waves, he saw nothing to be unexpected within the city walls.

"Eragon," his head shot up to see who called his name. Galbatorix beckoned him to hurry and catch up to where Shruikan was climbing the stone steps up to the keep. There, they both dismounted and the large doors opened when they approached. Shruikan nudged Saphira to follow him on an alternate route that would take them up and around instead of having to squeeze through the hallways. They would enter through a giant door made especially for dragons and riders and wait for Galbatorix and Eragon to greet the leaders of the Red Fleet. Shruikan laid himself down on the floor and waited, looking down a level to where a short man stood surrounded by other short men, thick red cape flowing from his shoulders. Shruikan picked him out as the Admiral and pointed this out to Saphira who had lain down next to him. _Watch carefully on how Galbatorix greets that man, young one. Foreign allies are tricky business, but they are worth it if handled well. _

When Galbatorix walked in with Eragon a few steps behind him flanking his right, all eyes were on them. He wasn't dressed like a King, no fancy robes or coats lined with gold, and the same could be said for Eragon. Never could it be said that Galbatorix lavished on himself while his people went hungry. The Dark King strode forward and calmly shook the shorter man's hand. They shared a grin, slipping into a language Eragon did not even try to comprehend until Saphira tapped on his mind and shared the knowledge Shruikan had given to her. Suddenly their conversation began to make sense.

"_Galbatorix, do you ever get sick of meeting like this?" _The Admiral was surprisingly at ease with the whole situation, in fact he looked down right at home in Teirm's keep. Eragon wondered if he had been here before.

_"Never, Darius. Now come, introduce me to your men so I can return the favour." _Luckily, Admiral Darius had a name Eragon could pronounce, unlike the rest of his commanders who were also introduced in gruff Alagaesian tongue for all to hear. Only then did Galbatorix motion for Eragon to shake Darius's hand and all the others. He surprised them all when he used their own language, but talk continued in Alagaesian so the Lords and Ladies situated around them could understand.

They trailed down to the lower levels of the keep where a huge feast was being prepared, making Eragon wonder how he could have missed the overwhelming smell of roasted bird on their way up. Eragon sat on Galbatorix's right and Admiral Darius sat on his left. Unsurprising his captains were seated next, and after that Lords and their wives were strewn about.

It was only when Eragon get a closer look at the Red soldiers did he realize something: They looked like the King. Or rather, Galbatorix looked like them. Somewhat. The Red Imperials were short with sharp features and black eyes, and their skin was dark. The King was tall, but his skin was only a shade lighter than theirs, and while his eyes were a piercing green, Eragon realized his face held more similarities than differences. _This must be where Galbatorix hails from, _Eragon whispered to Saphira, who was sitting behind him happily accepting offers from the cook. The end of her tail twitched, and her cat eyes darting from Galbatorix to the others seated at the oversized table.

_Shruikan says the King is only half Alagaesian, but he was raised here. Apparently he earned an accent from his mother but it has been long smothered by our own tongue. _Even as she said it the glass was shattered, and suddenly Eragon was hearing the distinct pronunciations that the King shared with the Admiral. His eyes widened the slightest bit as Galbatorix continued to speak.

Hours later when the food was finished and stomachs were full, Galbatorix stood and led them outside to the front of the Keep. The sailors were rallied, torn away from their beds and their mugs, and the pure number of them all made Eragon very nervous. _What is stopping them from attacking right now instead of waiting to be directed towards the elves? _Before Saphira could answer him and quell his fear, Galbatorix raised his arms for silence and promptly announced they would all have the chance to touch the eggs of dragons like he and Eragon had. Eragon took that as his cue to swallow his shock and stand in front of Saphira with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Shruikan stood next to them, and he playfully brushed his head against Saphira's neck before tipping his head towards the sky and letting loose a terrifying roar. After a split second, Eragon heard Saphira follow suit and the Red soldiers cheered at the idea. _Apparently dragons and dragon riders aren't such a foreign concept to them after all, _Eragon thought, eyes snapping to his right when he saw two servants approach, each carrying one small wooden chest.

He felt Saphira's heart begin to race as the two eggs came closer and closer. She had yet to see the future of her race save for her own eggs, and Eragon knew her mind was racing over the possibilities available. Slivers of thought escaped and he glanced back to her, _mates for your daughters? Isn't it a bit early to plan such things? _But Saphira was a female, a mother to be; of course her mind was already worrying over such details. What mother would condemn her daughters to a lonely existence; a life like her own?

Soldiers began to crowd and officers took it upon themselves to set up distinctive sections. Everyone who wanted would get the chance to touch both eggs no matter how long it took. Of course, they very well might have to carry on into the next day after bedding down for the night, but Galbatorix was determined to seal the alliance between their countries with a rider from their army. He trusted the hatchlings inside to make good choices as their instincts told them to do, and that was specifically why he chose these two eggs. Shruikan had helped him make the decision, but it all came down to which eggs felt the most ready to enter the world and shift through the hundreds upon hundreds of consciences available to them. Based on the confidence they displayed, swearing they felt their rider's very close and in the city, the selection was made. In one chest rested a particularly small orange egg, a male with a bubbly mind and an eagerness to please. In the other lay a rare white egg, the female inside already quick-witted and obedient. Either one would make an excellent addition to the growing rider family.

Despite all the vigilant eyes and numerous preparations made for every scenario possible, **something** was bound to go wrong.

Something did.

They had anticipated a fight breaking out in the lines in front of the two eggs. Drunken soldiers were hard to control. No sooner had the fight started was it broken up by Red Empire officers that stood at hand for such things. But when the dust cleared the only thing everyone was concerned about was where the white egg had gone.

Shruikan fought the urge to fall into a rage and lay waste to the city in search for her and instead called out to her mind desperately, overpowering any resistance he came to in anyone's mind. He took Eragon on his back and left Galbatorix with Saphira to watch over the orange egg and continue sorting through the soldiers which still needed to be done despite the current situation. Following the young hatchlings mind, he listened to her instructions on how to find her, as she was very well aware her new surroundings. The short flight took them to the harbour.

_A **slave**? What was a slave doing so close to the eggs? _Eragon cried as soon as he heard the news. Surprisingly, he was not upset at the idea of someone owning a slave, just the thought of one being so close to the dragon eggs. Who would be foolish enough -sure enough- to bring a slave into such a large crowd and expect nothing to happen?

Shruikan snorted at him, _The Red Empire employs whores on their ships to keep the sailors from getting too grumpy. She may be a slave, but no one but the Red Empire as a whole can claim ownership of her. The good news is the only weapon we have to fear from her is the one between her legs. _The dark dragon swooped down onto the giant dock and carefully set his weight down, hoping it would hold his weight. Not wanting to test it even once it proved sturdy enough, Shruikan sent Eragon out after the female egg.

_Are you saying she might try to distract me? _Eragon snuck through the harbour, creeping around buildings and ducking behind crates. He was aiming towards one ship in particular, and Shruikan watched patiently as he slowly progressed towards it.

_Maybe, but so far she hasn't made a move to harm the hatchling, so just get in, grab the egg and then secure the thief. _He held confidence in Eragon's abilities, but he still worried. Should something go wrong and the egg hurt, the hatchling inside would suffer for the rest of her life. Only, the thing that worried him more was how excited the small female was with the whole situation.

Eragon paused next to a wall, summoning a blue ball of magic to his hand and ready to restrain the thief waiting just around the corner. He had made it all the way to the bottom of the ship without alerting the slave according to the hatchling, who reported the woman was still murmuring strange sounds under her breath. The upside was she was obviously distracted (Eragon had stumbled at least once throughout each level of the ship's underbelly) while the young rider was completely focused on his task.

Calming stepping around the corner and into view, Eragon blocked her only exit and stood there patiently. The young woman didn't notice him at first, but once she did all hell broke loose. Like a monkey she climbed around the room in a desperate attempt to get him away from the door and finally out. Eragon was tackled roughly but he refused to let her win, pushing her back and then kicking her to the ground. While he didn't approve of hurting women, this one had asked for it when she took an egg. Perhaps it was Saphira's rage filling him; perhaps it was Shruikan's worry. He found himself pinning her to the floor with a strong spell, focusing all his energy on the magic until he was sure it would hold no matter how much she struggled.

As she yelled curses at him and spat, Eragon took the time to catch his breath. _I've secured the egg and caught the thief, _he relayed back to Shruikan and Saphira simultaneously. Both dragons breathed a sigh of relief, and suddenly Eragon felt calmer. Calm enough to sit down in her chair and stare down at her, placing one hand on the egg protectively. She was very much a woman but what drew his eyes was her fiery red hair. He was not aware such a shade could be crossed with the dark skin of the Red Empire, but the look entranced him. He eyes were a pale shade of blue, but he could not focus on them with her thrashing around like she was. Again his eyes went to her hair.

He raised an eyebrow when she finally stopped fighting the blue bonds that held her to the floor and stared back at him. Using what Shruikan had shared with Saphira and, in turn, he, Eragon barked a few words of her own language at her. _"What were you thinking, sea rat?" _He threw in the degrading title for good measure, wanting her to know he was above her even if she didn't know he was a dragon rider already. The woman continued to stare at him, refusing to speak. Had it been any other circumstance, he would've hauled her to her feet and dragged her back to Shruikan to face prosecution by the King, but he was curious as to why she would risk such an endeavor. "_For money? Power? Leverage?"_ This seemed to get her attention.

_"Do not assume, Rider. I am not foolish enough to risk my own life for a few coins. She called me to her." _Eragon stilled his tongue to listen to her, trying not to let his astonishment show on his face. Had she gone through the same thing he had? Had she felt a pull towards the egg and followed it blindly? At that thought he rubbed his hand on the egg and sought out the mind resting inside.

_Young one, is what she says true? _He felt the female inside stir in distaste at the pet name but didn't have time to apologize before she was silencing him and confirming his suspicions. Feeling his eyes go wide, he immediately contacted Shruikan. _Get Galbatorix down here, Shruikan. I've found his new rider. _

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This is actually half of a chapter. I felt it was getting too long and I was starting to summarize too much for something as important as this. The next chapter should be up really quick, and I'm really hoping you like it.

Expect a bit more of Murtagh than ever before once he gets back from this little "ridin solo" expedition.

Also: _"Italics in quotation marks means they aren't speaking Alagaesian, however__ they are still speaking aloud.__ Just making sure you guys knew!"_

**Next Update: It's a surprise. **


	54. Sixteen Monsoons

I thought I should clarify for you all (I had hoped it was clear enough, but I suppose not) the Red Empire is from across the sea, much like where the elves had hailed from only more to the south. Shruikan and Galbatorix flew there when they were younger and established a bond with the people. When the rebellion became too much for him to handle alone, the first thing Galbatorix did was send a message asking for help. I based them off of the Persians, so while their ships have oars their signature is the red sails xD

**Don't forget about the poll on my profile guys, it's very important!**

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It was only minutes after Eragon had contacted Shruikan and the King that the white egg began to crack, the hatchling inside sick of waiting. Eragon did what Shruikan told him: he locked the door should the woman try to escape, opened the window to let some air in, and undid her bonds to let her touch the white hatchling. He watched from his seat on the other side of the room as the woman kneeled near the egg, eagerly waiting for the hatching to be complete. Other than telling her what was about to happen and what she should do, the blue rider said nothing.

Until the beak of the young hatchling emerged from the egg, Eragon had sworn he'd never be as blow away as he had been when Saphira first hatched for him. After the head followed a long, strong neck, and soon front legs were kicking to be free. It seemed he ceased to breathe when the young female finally shook herself from her egg and ruffled her wings above her body like she had been waiting to do just that for centuries. At first it had startled him when the young dragon first looked at him, as her eyes were as red as Thorn's despite her white scales, but soon his attention shifted to her rider. Unlike him, she had not fainted with the marking but she was obviously in pain. It was only then he stood and approached slowly, offering to calm the pain.

_"Do not shy away," _he warned when she eyed him and his magic suspiciously. Once he was finished she did something surprising: she gestured for him to sit close to her. Eragon shrugged, figuring it couldn't hurt, and sat cross legged a few feet in front of her instead of in his chair all the way across the room. He wouldn't get another moment alone with her for a while once Galbatorix and Shruikan came around so Eragon decided to be polite to her, _"what is your name?" _

The woman hesitated before a nudge from her hatchling persuaded her. The white dragon had curled herself up in the lap of her young rider, exhausted from breaking from her shell. Caislyn didn't seem to mind, and Eragon found he wanted to save this memory in the back of his mind. How many other hatchings would he see in his lifetime? _"In your language, I am Caislyn." _That was the gateway for their whole conversation.

_"Well met, Caislyn. You may call me Eragon." _She regarded him for a moment with one raised eyebrow before she smiled. Then she did something strange. Caislyn reached for his hand and brought his hand to her lips, giving his palm a dry kiss. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

_"I will remember this day, Eragon." _He returned her smile but noticed her was more timid than his. Her eyes dropped down to the sleeping hatchling between them. It was only then he became aware how much younger she looked when she wasn't meeting his gaze or spitting swears at him.

_"How old are you, Caislyn?"_ At her puzzled look Eragon tried to word it differently. _"How many years do you have? How many winters have you seen?" _She was obviously a woman grown, but he'd seen girls as young as thirteen flaunting hips that belonged to others twice their age. He didn't know how her people kept track or if they did at all, or even if they aged the same as he. Either way, she wouldn't be aging now.

Her face remained perplexed for a moment before her expression lifted, _"monsoons? Sixteen monsoons," _Eragon assumed she meant sixteen years. The southern coast of the Empire was battered with summer storms every year, as was Surda's coast. It meant she was nearly as young as he when he had first discovered Saphira's egg, though he had to admit her way of possessing the young dragon had been a bit more thrilling than his. It also meant she was a lot younger than she managed to look. _"And you?" _

_"A little bit older," _he responded, figuring there was no way he could go wrong if he didn't try to give her an exact number. His twentieth nameday had passed a few weeks back, and it didn't bother him greatly that everyone but Saphira failed to notice. Not that anyone else even knew his actual nameday, of course. Eragon paused, thinking back to the hatchling nestling in Caislyn's lap. _Why had she done it? She said she had felt a pull, but did she really believe it was worth risking her life like this?_ _The only reason she isn't in line to be executed is because the hatchling chose her. _Overcome by curiosity, he asked her.

Caislyn's mouth opened a few times as she tried to find the right words. Words he would understand, words he could sympathize with. _"I've never had much. I've never meant anything. I am a common whore, surely you must know. Yet when she touched me, touched my mind, I felt… empowered. She wanted me to come to her, as if I was worth it. Worth something. To her, I mean. It was overwhelming; I had to get to her. I didn't think up a plan for if I actually got close enough to touch her back. So when I did… I just ran…" _Eragon tried to hold his heart back but it warmed nevertheless.

Moved, he held a hand out to show her the silver mark on his hand. In return, she held out her hand also. Mesmerized, she ran her fingers over hand over the silver shining on his palm. _"Saphira, my dragon, never called to me like that. It seems your female has proven to be more of a go-getter than mine." _He looked from his hand to her eyes and his gaze stayed there. _"But you're here, that's all that matters." _Carefully he placed his hand over hers and held it. _"And as long as you stay you will matter. You will be worth something." _He watched her eyes light up and while he wished she would smile her face remained solemn, albeit a little less pitiful.

_"I am grateful to you." _She had heard about the famed Dark King the whole journey, learned of his powers and his dragon. In the few hours after they had docked, she had also heard tales of a vengeful Red Rider. She had heard very little about Eragon himself, but she knew enough from the stories and from him sitting across from her that he was neither. Caislyn squeezed his hand in return, happy she had met the Blue Rider before any of the others, fabled or imagined. _"You are much kinder than the others I have heard about."_

Eragon nearly cringed at the idea of her meeting Murtagh first instead but instead forced himself to nod and chuckle at her words. _"The King is nice enough, but gods forbid if you had met my brother in my place." _He knew Murtagh would have been rough with her, probably fight her physically instead of with magic and hold her down accordingly. Caislyn didn't seem to understand, and her head tipped sideways in question. _"The Red Rider is my half-brother," _he clarified, hoping she knew he was the Blue Rider and such.

Caislyn's eyes widened but she said nothing about it. Taking the opportunity to turn the conversation to something new, Eragon motioned to the resting hatchling. _"Has she asked for a name yet? I can give you a list." _

Much to his surprise, it was the hatchling that answered. _That won't be necessary, rider. I have chosen my own name based on the memories of my rider. You may call me Aave. _The white dragon lifted her head to look him up and down before standing a stretching. Once again Eragon stared at her shimmering scales with wonder. In the back of his mind, he knew he would never find another more beautiful than Saphira, but he had to admit Aave was indeed captivating. No doubt Caislyn noticed it too. Her hand found the brow of her dragon, and Eragon looked away long enough to let the two share a moment. Suddenly he felt very much like he was intruding.

_"In Alagaesian, aave means wraith," _Eragon revealed, now knowing why the name had struck a sense of familiarity in his mind. The hatchling purred at this notion.

_And across the sea aave are giant creatures that haunt the skies and take down lone ships. _It shocked him when he heard her voice again. It was so mature sounding for a newborn, not at all like Saphira's had been.

_"I have a feeling it shall soon suit you, white one," _Eragon knew in no time she would be doing just that. A white dragon swooping through the clouds silently would strike fear deep into the hearts of their enemies. Eragon realized this was probably the exact thing Galbatorix was hoping for. Aave was also larger than Saphira had been as a newborn, so he wondered if she would outgrow his own dragon in due time. He also wondered if Saphira would care if she did.

A few more minutes of silence passed and suddenly Galbatorix was knocking on the door, waiting patiently to come in. Eragon stood, gesturing for her to stand as well, and unlocked the door for him. The King entered, ducking his head to get through the doorway and Eragon suddenly felt very short. Eragon led the introductions smoothly, and Caislyn kissed the King's palm as she had his. Galbatorix didn't seem as surprised as he had been, but Eragon reasoned he had been greeted in such a way before.

The Dark King led them to the deck of the ship, standing on one side of the new rider with Eragon on her other flank. A hand was offered to her as she vaulted off the ship, but he knew she accepted it purely out of courtesy. Caislyn could easily out maneuver them both on a ship that much he knew. In front of them towered Shruikan, who had flown and landed closer to the ship while he waited for Galbatorix's arrival. The black dragon stared down at Caislyn stoically before his eyes flew to Aave. When she chirped at him softly, his hard outer shell seemed to melt. _Little one, I was afraid I had lost you. _

Aave jumped from Caislyn's arms and drifted down on underdeveloped wings. She brushed herself against Shruikan's muzzle when he craned his head down, purring back at her. Eragon recognized they were acting much like cats would and smiled at the touching scene. After giving the two dragons a moment to themselves, they headed towards Teirm's keep immediately.

Galbatorix had gotten his wish; the two countries would be allied for many years to come with Caislyn now under his command, but her occupation complicated things. As she was a girl of marrying age, she was expected to be joined with a man he could trust to watch over and guide her. But she was a mere sea rat, a whore of the fleet. Who could he betroth her to? Certainly not Eragon, the boy was clearly in love with Rhonny and upsetting him in such a way would likely drive him and his dragon away. Galbatorix didn't like the idea of marrying her himself even if her beauty was by far unrivaled. So he did the next best thing_. I'll give her to Murtagh._

Upon entering the Keep, Galbatorix excused himself from their presence, relaying this recent decision to Shruikan for approval. At the idea of Thorn getting the mate he deserved, Shruikan agreed and hoped all worked out well. Galbatorix sought out Admiral Darius and spoke to him in private, explain all that had happened. Admiral Darius accepted the marriage with a grin on his face; apparently Murtagh's reputation preceded him. Even as they shook on it Galbatorix was cringing in the back of his mind. _I wonder if the gods realized I was joking when I offered to arrange him a wife._

Apparently not.

* * *

When they arrived back in Uru Baen a few days later, Galbatorix immediately returned himself to settling Caislyn in and explaining everything to his advisors. They did not seem happy that he had made the decision of betrothing the new rider to Murtagh without consulting them, but the immediacy of the situation was understood. The King busied himself with making the marriage legal under the circumstances, pulling in favors and reassuring the Lords that the crown would not be under foreign influence until she was fully trained in the ways of the riders. In the end, Galbatorix ended up pulling out his title and quieting the cries of upset nobles with treaties, fine wine, and feasts.

While his rider dealt with the political side of the new rider, Shruikan attended to the hatchling with a gentle voice and a warm heart. Aave was thrilled to finally be able to rub her head under his chin, something she had been waiting to do for ninety five years of being stuck inside her shell. He led the young hatchling through the great halls of the capital's castle with her weaving around his front feet and her rider walking by his side.

_You'll be staying here, young white, _he explained when he showed her their new chambers. They would share with Murtagh and Thorn naturally, and Aave seemed to sense this as soon as she stepped in the room.

_I can smell him, _she stated, sniffing around on the cushion Thorn usually slept on. Shruikan rumbled softly in apology.

_Your rider has been promised to his. _Caislyn's head whipped up when he spoke, knowing what his words meant through her dragons mind. That and she hadn't looked over the stark masculinity the room held. It needed a woman's touch, everything was bare and basic. Everywhere she looked she saw small splashes of red. A thick red rug lay on the floor and a giant red cushion was on the other side of the room, opposite of the bed. The bed itself was a light gray with red_._ The young rider frowned at him and stopped investigating her surroundings, but dared not voice her displeasure.

_It is alright, my King. I know my duty. Once I am grown, I will take Thorn as my mate in all meanings of the word. _He licked her head gently, proud of her composure. It hadn't surprised him when Aave spoke Alagaesian as well as he did; the Elundari had promised to educate every egg in the secret chamber in the ways of the world. When he had first entered her mind after her hatching, he knew they had done their job well. _Until then, I shall respect and honor him as an elder dragon. _

_That is all I ask of you. _Shruikan wasn't too shocked with her answer. Aave had been waiting to hatch for many years, and her mind had aged while her body lay dormant. She was inexperienced and small, but she was neither naïve nor weak. He dared say she knew more than Saphira and Thorn even with their training, but she obviously lacked in field training and "street-smarts". Shruikan was confidant she would catch up quickly. _There is a heavy guard outside your door, should either of you want to leave this room without an authorized escort, send one of the men. They will know who to fetch. _

_But, my King, when will I begin my training, _Aave pushed even as she curled up on the bed with her rider for the night. They were both all tired for the past few days had been hectic, but she was determined to start soon.

_Your enthusiasm is appreciated, young one, but at the moment I do not know for sure. I will talk with my rider about such things tonight when night falls and the city rests. Tomorrow, I will tell you. _He was happy she was eager to get started, but he refused to give her an answer when he did not know for sure. _But I can say you will be learning from both Saphira and I. When the Red Rider returns, you will learn from Thorn as well. Until then, sleep little one. _

_Goodnight, my King. _Aave answered politely, closing her eyes. Caislyn soon followed after her. Shruikan looked down at them for a few minutes, noting the young rider hadn't said a word since Galbatorix had fetched her and Eragon from the ship she had chosen to hide in. He knew the redhead was probably just struggling to wrap her head around the whole mess, especially the idea of intellectual dragons. He remembered from long ago that the dragons of the Red Empire had been mere animals. They never spoke, their minds like those of regular mounts. The Red Army used them in replace of horses on the battle field even. They had been fearsome, yes, but very stupid. Shaking his head, Shruikan left their chambers without another word and went to his rider's.

* * *

Told you this would be a quick update! :D

**Expect a bit more of Murtagh than ever before once he gets back from this little "ridin solo" expedition.**

_"Italics in quotation marks means they aren't speaking Alagaesian, however__ they are still speaking aloud.__ Just making sure you guys knew!"_

**Next Update: It's a surprise. **


	55. Little Sister

Lol an update? What is this madness?!

**Am I doing something wrong with this one? Something I need to work on maybe? Chapter length? Dialogue? Descriptions? Do you guys just want some regular updates before you start showing some love? xD Please tell me. **

* * *

For two days the new dragon and rider stayed in Murtagh's room, only leaving when called upon and very rarely in the best of moods. Eragon found himself frowning at the idea of them holing themselves up for no reason. Sure, he understood it was all a bit overwhelming, but one just had to try. That's all the asked of Caislyn. It had only taken him 6 months and now he fit into the castle life very nicely. It might take her a little longer due to her being from across the sea, but none of them were demanding she learn everything at once.

Eragon decided he had enough of it after those two days and marched himself down to Murtagh's chambers to retrieve her and show her the upsides of being a rider. Caislyn already somewhat trusted him, so he figured he could convince her to venture out of the Red Rider's room easily enough.

His knuckles knocked in rapid session, but he felt that it was too formal to leave alone. "Caislyn?" He waited several moments, listening for any sound, then remembered how early it was and that most did not wake up at this hour. Even the luxurious life at the castle hadn't ground the old habit out of him. Thinking on that, he realized he had become a tad bit spoiled over the past few months. Perhaps it was to make up for the difficult training he was subjected to. Once his sessions were over Galbatorix merely gave him a few scrolls to read and some spells to practice and let him go on his way. He ate the richest foods the kingdom had to offer and slept on the softest beds. It was a far better life than his old one on a farm, yet he knew he wasn't made for royalty and at some point in his life he would return to his previous simple existence.

Maybe that's why he wished to bring Caislyn out from her shell: he missed having people who would talk to him like any other man. Being a dragon rider separated him from the normal people. This was probably the reason he held his friendship with both Murtagh and Galbatorix so highly. It wasn't easy to find friends in the castle, but he was friendly with everyone by default and was happy to have earned a few companions because of it. When he wasn't spending his evenings with Rhonny he was sure to travel down to the lower levels of the castle and play nice with the staff.

Upon entering Murtagh's room he noticed the red haired rider had done nothing to change the interior. No extra pillows or bedding, no rearranged furniture, nothing. Eragon closed the door gently behind him, hoping not to scare her. At the sound the wooden door made Eragon saw a slight response from the lump resting on the bed.

Aave's head peaked out from under the sheets and the white hatchling chirped happily as if to say hello. Eragon smiled at her and made his way to the bed. His hand reach out to her muzzle on its own accord, _"good morning, white one,"_ he heard himself saying, scratching her chin for her. He wasn't all too surprised to hear a purr rise from her throat in response.

_Greetings, rider. It is nice to finally have a visitor. _Eragon's smile remained but his eyes flicked to Caislyn's still form, her body hidden by a pile of blankets. Aave followed his gaze and nearly sighed. _My rider has been sleeping more than I anticipated. Yet I can feel she is not sick… just… exhausted. _

Eragon nodded in understand and sought to reconcile the young dragon, _"do not worry, the marking process takes a lot out of us humans. I slept more than she, in fact."_ It was only partially true: when Saphira first hatched for him he found himself weary, but there was no time to nap when you lived on a barely running farm. If the young dragon caught the potential lie, she said nothing and instead trilled a bit in response. Eragon's grin grew. _"Why don't you wake her and we'll show her the wonders of this side of the sea? Galbatorix has granted me a day off to do so, and he has no plans for you."_ Aave eyed him, but her gaze was not suspicious, just curious. Then she flipped herself around and pounced on Caislyn's sleeping form.

The new rider grumbled and groaned at first, but she woke up quite fast when she noticed Eragon standing a few feet from the bed. Caislyn shot out of bed, in fact, before she realized who he was. With a sigh she calmed her racing heart and apologized for her rather unpleasant words. Eragon brushed it away and motioned for her to dress herself in the back room, waiting patiently as she went to do so. Aave hopped down from the bed and stretched by his feet, reminding him much of a cat. Her actions earned a throaty chuckle.

When the young dragon and rider were ready, he led them to the kitchen. It was well before the official breakfast time, but the cook wasn't about to refuse them something to eat. In a matter of minutes Eragon was watching Caislyn savage the meal in front of her like she hadn't eaten in days. Eragon realized with a sinking feeling in his gut that she hadn't. Shruikan had checked up on them a few times since she arrived, but by the way she was eating Eragon knew she hadn't told him to fetch some food to calm her stomach. Surely Shruikan wasn't that intimidating? And why didn't her hatchling say anything?

Pushing that aside, the blue rider calmly finished his hot porridge and sipped his coffee, trying not to rush her. As it was he feared she would choke on her sliced ham when she practically inhaled it off her plate. After her first plate her pace slowed and by the third he knew he wouldn't have to wait long. When Caislyn finally leaned back, holding her stomach, she smiled sheepishly at him. He grinned and shook his head, standing and leaving his dishes to be collected by the servants.

Their journey through the halls had a purpose, as Eragon took it upon himself to show her every possible room that might interest her. He made sure she knew where the library was, as well as the scroll room (though he doubted she'd need that too soon), his room, Galbatorix's personal chambers and the throne room. They saw the King briefly as he exited a meeting, but he could not stay long. Eragon watched as he graced Caislyn with a smile and the young woman's face reddened as the older rider walked away. Knowing it was not his place to question, Eragon walked on like it hadn't happened.

Caislyn was openly fascinated with the training room, as well as the roof where spars sometime took place. Her fingers fluttered through the air as if she wished to run her hands over every weapon that lined the walls, eyes wide. Eragon found himself grinning. _"Looking forward to picking out your first weapon, yes_?" The question seemed straightforward and expected to him until she spun to look at him, looking startled and… eager?

_"I will have the chance to fight_?" Her voice cracked as if she thought he was tricking her. He paused, asking himself the same thing. As he thought, his hand raised to his chin.

_"I don't see why you wouldn't." _He hadn't seen many female warriors, if any, that were human. But she wasn't human any longer, if she was to begin with. They were dragon riders, those who held the strengths of their companions. Why wouldn't she fight when the magic of dragons coursed through her blood? Granted she might not have such a head on style like Murtagh and he, but there were many ways to fight without going sword to sword with an opponent. He had no expertise with a blade outside of how to wield one, but he could see her taking down her enemies with a mixture of magic and throwing stars. _Blades hidden up her sleeves,_ he thought, amused.

Though she obviously wanted to spend more time in such a room, Eragon led Caislyn back into the hall by her hand, tugging her along. _"Being a dragon rider isn't all about shiny weapons and bossing people around, mind you," _he warned and was happy to see her right beside him, listening intently. _"There is a war going on, yes, but there is far more for us to handle than our armies. We will fight, yes, and we will see the front line, but you cannot win a war with brute force alone. Over everything else, we value the mind," _he tapped her temple playfully for emphasis and saw her lips spring up into a smile.

_"Are all riders as wise as you?" _Eragon smiled at the compliment.

_"The King is more so than I, but you'll find years with a dragon in your head will give you a certain..." _he trailed off, searching for the right word, _"…edge, over the general population." _Caislyn looked down at her shoes, considering her next words carefully.

_"Is the Red Rider wise as well?" _Her voice was so soft Eragon wouldn't have heard it had he been a normal human. He turned his head to look over at her, pausing in front of a giant window, one of many that lined the hall and looked down over the courtyard. She distracted herself with the view of the city as he trained his eyes onto her and how she cradles Aave in her arms like a child.

_"My brother… is troubled, as many are. In truth, I have spent far less time with my next of kin than I would've liked. You will have to see for yourself." _He didn't want to bias her opinions of Murtagh before his brother even got the chance to introduce himself, but he knew the meeting would not go smoothly. Murtagh's temper was nothing to be admired, and his behavior was less than agreeable. His mind trailed to what the man's reaction would be to finally arriving home after a mission and suddenly having a wife. His head shook slightly at the thought. _No, it will not go smoothly at all. _Another man might accept his duty tightlipped, or even indulge in the exotic, red haired beauty whole heartedly, but Murtagh was neither type.

Caislyn nodded stiffly, reflecting on his words. _"And what will become of me once he returns?" _Caislyn did not know where her husband-to-be had gone off to, but she knew he was on official business for the King and had apparently been gone quite some time. Out of common courtesy, she prayed nothing ill fate had befallen him.

_"You are to be wed, as you know. Murtagh holds a sizable amount of land to the North, but I doubt you will be shipped off like any other bride. Your training will happen here, and as far as I can tell you will continue to share the Red Rider's quarters. The only thing that will change is…"_

_"I will be sharing the bed," _she added, dark humor in her voice. Eragon spared her a dry smile. The only good thing about her situation was she seemed perfectly prepared for whatever Murtagh tried on her. Living the past few years on a ship had hardened her to harsh words and taught her the weaknesses of men. Eragon could not deny his brothers bad behavior towards the opposite sex, but he also secretly awaited the clash between the Red and White Rider. His mind sparked at the idea.

_"It just occurred to me, you will be called the White Rider by the people. Does that please you?" _He offered her an arm like a true gentleman and led her down the hall once again, headed towards the front gate. Aave chirped like a small bird at the title and Caislyn seemed to like the idea as well.

_"It does please me," _she answered, gently setting Aave down on the marble floor. At another chirp from her dragon, Caislyn locked eyes with Eragon. _"Where is your dragon?" _

_"She left to bring my wife back to our manor in the East." _It shocked him that he didn't even falter at the thought of Rhonny being his wife, nor openly acknowledging her as such. Caislyn seemed equally surprised at his words. _"Saphira will return shortly. In fact she just flew over the outskirts of the capital." _He swerved around a corner, knowing there was much else he needed to show them both outside the castle walls.

The giant doors opened before, the guards stepping out of their way to let them outside. The sunshine cast over them in a blanket and instantly Eragon felt warmth roll over him. A stronger reaction tore through him when he saw Saphira land gracefully at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him expectantly. He let Caislyn's hand drop and just barely kept himself from running to her like a child. Barely. Laughing and wrapping his arms around her large muzzle, Eragon closed his eyes and listened to her hum in response. He could lose himself in that nose, the feeling of her hot breath washing over him in waves and the sight of her eyes softening when he ran a hand over the small scales of her face.

_I missed you, _he admitted into her mind, but that much was obvious, mental connection or not. Saphira's hum increased in volume and she licked up his neck when he finally detached himself from her face.

_And I you, little one, _she whispered. It was as if they hadn't seen each other, shared a mind, in years. In truth, he had been talking with her all morning as he led Caislyn around, feeding her information and entertaining her with his thoughts. Galbatorix had once said their bond was stronger than any he had seen in many years and he hadn't been lying. He had been young when she had hatched for him, and they had grown close through the years of hardship and desperation. Even though they had finally found their place in the world, the pair would never lose the bond they shared.

Eragon turned his attention to where he left Caislyn standing on the top steps and beckoned her down. Aave leapt and glided, her short legs carrying her down the stairs faster than her rider could follow. Perhaps the White Rider would never have a bond with Aave like Eragon had with Saphira, but they would share something similar. Murtagh had grown close to Thorn over the past few years, but that connection was more like one between brothers. There was no label for Eragon's love for Saphira, but Rhonny had tried to produce one. All the sandy haired half dwarf could come up with was something akin to "sibling love, just more… desperate." Her voice had a slither of jealousy in it, and Eragon realize right then that Rhonny hadn't failed to notice he needed Saphira in his life more than she. That had been a mess to talk over, but they had settled it.

Saphira turned her attention to the young hatchling sitting at her feet, calming looking up at her with piercing ruby eyes. _Hello, young one. _Aave chirped before replying.

_I have been waiting for 95 years to hatch, I am not young… But, I suppose in some way I am. _Aave bowed her head in respect, not wanting to offend the blue dragon before her.

Saphira flashed a toothy grin. _Will you and your rider be joining us for the remainder of the day?_

_Of course._

True to their word, Aave and Caislyn spent the day with Eragon and Saphira, trailing along behind the two older, more experienced riders until the sun began to set. Even after, Eragon shared a glass of wine with Caislyn in one of the many leisure rooms, toasting to her and her white hatchling. The fire crackled a few feet away in a stone fireplace, warming their sides, and Saphira's slow, steady breathing damn near put him to sleep. They were all quite spent after a day of flitting their way through shops and dashing down alleyways. Saphira had taken Aave high above the clouds and showed her the world from above as Caislyn led Eragon through the crowds. For once in his life he had felt relatively normal, like any other man spending a day in the capital. Except he actually had money to buy what he wanted, of course. The red haired rider even helped him pick out a necklace for Rhonny, much to his joy.

Then it was time to show her what it really meant to be a dragon rider. Saphira landed with a boom on the roofs above them and let out a terrifying roar, calling all attention to her. Eragon practically kidnapped Caislyn, carrying her up and strapping her into the saddle with him. They flew miles in each direction and Eragon watched as Caislyn's face lit up with fascination. _"You are built for this"_ he had told her, and she looked back at him with a shocking amount of emotion in her eyes.

_"Thank you for today," _Caislyn's voice brought him back to the present. His brown eyes met her pale blue ones only to have her look down at her half full glass.

_"You couldn't stay in that room forever," _he answered softly. Eragon watched her nod and realized her hair caught the light from the fire. Suddenly feeling compelled to do so, he continued. _"You have been thrust into a world you do not know, surrounded with people you've just barely met, and you think everyone is expecting you to get it right on the first try. I just… I just wanted to show you that here, we are family, and yes, you are a part of our family now."_

Caislyn bowed her head even more, hiding the tears in her eyes. She was used to harsh words, not tender ones. _"You didn't have to…" _She trailed off, finally glancing up and slowly returned his warm smile. It was then she decided she was going to like the man sitting across from her.

_"Nonsense," _Eragon stood and reached for her hand, bending down to kiss her knuckles. _"I've always wanted a little sister."_

* * *

Murtagh kicked the log at his feet and dropped from more firewood into the pile. He had only volunteered to collect the wood for a chance to get away from the damn elves Galbatorix had him escort. _What am I, a fucking chaperone?! _At least these ones weren't against eating meat. Had that been the case, the rider probably would have left them after the first day. Thorn fed them all by plucking big game off the plains below, and thankfully when they ate they finally shut up. The carcass lay nearby, skinned, gutted and ready to be packed away. Of course, the elves had left it for him to do.

Growling and unsheathing his hunting knife, he dragged the deer a few feet and finally settled down next to it. _Lazy fuckers, _he set to work carving the meat up into stripes to be cooked over the fire. He felt several pairs of eyes watching him from the tree line and resisted the urge to fling some guts in their general direction.

_Oh stop being so nasty, _Thorn's voice rang in his head. Murtagh glared over his shoulder at the ruby dragon.

_Stop being so spineless, **mom, **_Murtagh mocked, forcing back the part of his mind that told him he was being childish. _I just need more wine, _he thought. Snarling, he promptly remembered he had drunk it all. The elves did not carry such things with them, not to mention from all the times he had tried elven drinks they left him more sick than numb. _Bugger the taste, _Murtagh thought, knowing full well he drank to forget more than anything.

Sighing down at his work, he packed the readied meat away and turned the strips that cooked over the fire before sitting down in front of Thorn. The dragon didn't respond to his quip, instead silently helping his rider nurse a sour mood like he normally did. Without Thorn around, Murtagh would be downright unbearable. Murtagh's face split with a dark grin. He didn't mind the idea of people being scared of him.

After a few moments of quiet, giving Murtagh enough time to close his eyes and ease himself towards sleep, Thorn spoke again. _Galbatorix says he has a surprise for us? _One of his eyes popped open enough to look up at Thorn's muzzle above him.

_What? What for? _The King rarely gave out presents, but when he did they were usually worth whatever trouble they went through tio get it.

_He says it's a gift to make up for how we've been treated lately. He knows how much you hate running errands for him. _

_Damn right, I'm not his butler. _Thorn smiled at his haughtiness. _What is it? _

_He didn't say…_

_Wait a second… what voice did he use?_

_What do you mean?_

_You know exactly what I mean! Did he use his "dad" voice or his "King" voice?_

_Well… _When Thorn trailed off and looked away Murtagh groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

_Surprise my ass; the old man is shoving something at us to get rid of it. Probably another problem of his, _the rider growled, hands forming fists.

_Murtagh, don't speak of the King in such a way, _Thorn scolded softly, and Murtagh sighed at him, feeling the soft warmth through their connection that the dragon was sending him and using it to calm down. _Best you relax before you do something you regret. _

_Like shoving my sword up Galba-_ Murtagh began before Thorn cut him off.

**_Murtagh! _**The rider laughed darkly as his dragon fussed.

_Fine, fine, I'm relaxed. _He leaned back against Thorn's leg and closed his eyes again. _One of the elves is keeping watch, yes? _

_Yes, Blodgharm is a ways off perched in a tree._

_Good enough. _

Thorn let the silence sit for a minute or two before he whispered, _goodnight Murtagh._

Murtagh sighed with a small smile on his face, _goodnight Thorn. _

* * *

**I want to hit 200 reviews before this baby is over. That would make me very, very happy. I'm already planning out Part Three, by the way. Part Two is already planned out :) Now I just need to write like crazy!**

I threw in that little Murtagh bit for the fun of it ;)

**Next Update: Sometime... later on...**


	56. A Protector

I've started to utilize line breaks. I hope you guys don't mind.

**I want to hit 200 reviews before this baby is over. That would make me very, very happy.**

* * *

Eragon sat with Caislyn for breakfast the mornings following the day on the town. The white rider had been steadily improving on her Alagaesian but her words were still choppy. He was helping her learn. "This language very confusing." Eragon smiled.

"You're improving." She blinked, deciphering what he meant.

"More good?" He nodded.

"Yes, getting better. More good." Caislyn beamed a smile and swept her hair out of her face before finishing cleaning off her plate. Eragon usually finished eating before she did so he would sit across from her and calmly quiz her. She was improving, like he had told her, but she had so much to work on. She still put words in the wrong places, but at least now she knew what most of them meant. Now it was just a matter of getting her to use words like "improving" and "better" instead of "more good". As it turns out, her language had no _advanced_ words, so simpler words like good were used for many things. Much like Alagaesian, however, the tone used was more important than the words spoken.

Eragon smiled at the memory of her finally getting sick of his corrections and spitting them back at him, twisting his words. She had a fire in her that hid behind her controlled tongue. She explained to him one morning that holding back her temper on the ship was the difference between a lashing and a copper piece. It made sense to him, if she was sensitive to everything the sailors said to her (often very crude and taunting) she never would have made it across the sea. This was not the first time he was happy she had been chosen to travel with the Red Fleet.

Once Caislyn had cleaned her plate and announced she was full, Eragon walked her to the library. They had agreed to read through the scrolls together because Caislyn could not yet fully understand written Alagaesian. Eragon would be reading aloud and translating whenever she didn't know what something meant. Instead of trying spell scrolls, he had focused on reading her the history of the Empire. He had been putting off his history studies and was sure if Galbatorix hadn't been so busy he would get after him about it.

They had settled into a nice routine over the past few days too, and Eragon discovered he enjoyed Caislyn's company. _"I'm glad you're the new rider,"_ he had admitted the day before in between scrolls. Today would be no different, except he might try to persuade her to read a passage with his help. _I've taken her in as a pupil, apparently. _Not that he minded the idea.

Half way up the stairs leading away from the entrance to the palace, the giant doors slammed open behind them. Eragon turned, his arm still linked with hers, and his eyebrows shot up at the sight before him.

Murtagh stood there, drenched to the core and shoulders hunched, his sword hung haphazardly at his belt. "Fucking king! **GALBATORIX**, IT BETTER BE ONE HELL OF A SURPRISE!" His roar carried down the halls and there was no doubt the King heard them. It was only after the Red Rider barked a spell to shed the water from his clothes and shook his hair dry that their eyes met. Normally Eragon would have descended the stairs and greeted his brother properly, but at the look on his face he knew Murtagh was in no mood for pleasantries.

"That's the Red Rider?" Caislyn whispered to Eragon, who instantly felt sorry for the girl.

"Of course I am, girl, who the hell are you?" At once Murtagh took an interest with the pretty thing that hung off his brother's arm. Eragon frowned at him but Thorn beat him to the scolding.

_Murtagh will you be nice for once? She's just a girl. _Murtagh snorted at his dragons words but turned his attention towards the door as Thorn stepped in, dripping all over the rug. He gave Murtagh an expectant look and quickly the water disappeared. Thorn shook himself again for good measure. _Pleasure to meet you, Caislyn, _he greeted her properly, but Murtagh's eyes widened.

"You're the White Rider?" He looked her up and down a few times before chuckling darkly at some inside joke. Then he picked up where he left off. "OOOOHH GALBY," he half sang half snarled, "You're precious elves-" his voice was overpowered by the King's, who was suddenly standing at the top of the staircase looking down.

"Are finally where they should be, as are you," Galbatorix's voice was eerily calm, something Eragon took as his cue to leave.

"Perhaps it would be best for us to go," he tugged Caislyn away, earning a nod from Galbatorix. The new rider had no need to neither see nor hear this talk. Granted, the King never grew terribly angry with Murtagh but now was not the time to test him. Murtagh wasn't in the best of moods either. It was best for the two to continue their little talk in Galbatorix's office, where the whole palace could not overhear.

* * *

"Am I being punished for something? Cause it's certainly starting to look that way!" Murtagh paced, shoulders shaking with tension. His eyes were wide, anger channeling into adrenaline no doubt, his gaze locked onto the floor. Galbatorix sat in his chair, elbows resting on his desk and fingers laced together in front of his chin. His eyes followed Murtagh's erratic movements and he sighed.

"No, you're not being punished. The girl simply needed a-"

"A what? A _husband?" _Murtagh hissed the word, glaring daggers at his King.

"A protector. Many will seek to harm her as she is now our weakest link."

"So you're shoving her in my direction. I am to babysit, is that it?!" Galbatorix glared right back at him.

"And what would you have me do? Hand her over to Eragon just because you can't handle one single girl?"

"Why the hell not? They seem to like each other, and god knows my little brother could use a whore in his life!" The King stood abruptly, drawing Murtagh's attention away from the marble floor and to his King.

Galbatorix gestured to a chair, "Sit." He waited for Murtagh to sit before sitting him, sighing once again. Murtagh leaned back and sulked, gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. "Murtagh…" Galbatorix breathed, trying to find the right words. Murtagh beat him to it, however.

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You could have given her to a general or an admiral and she would have been fine. You could have claimed her yourself. What reason is there to choose me?" Murtagh flicked his eyes up for a split second before his gaze dove down again.

Galbatorix leaned back and gathered his thoughts. When he finally answered his voice had softened considerably, "you are the one I trust." Murtagh looked up, finally meeting his stare head on. Galbatorix resisted the urge to shrug and play the whole thing off. _The boy needs to hear this, _he told himself. "You are correct, I could have promised her to a general or a Lord and either would have been very happy. She wouldn't have been able to complain either; from a whore to a Lady is quite the upgrade. But I needed her with a man I knew would protect her even if he didn't love her, and would never hit her no matter how much she irked him." There it was, Murtagh's one solid rule in life out on the table: a man should never hit a woman. Short of one coming after him with a sword and hell bent on lopping off his head, Murtagh vowed to never strike a woman. He had never explained to Galbatorix when this truth was revealed, but the King would bet his kingdom on it being something to do with how the boy's mother had been treated.

Murtagh slumped in his chair after a minute of silence, resigning. "So you just need me to… to make sure she doesn't get hurt?"

Galbatorix nodded. "That's all I need."

"Do I have to be _nice _to her as well?" Galbatorix stopped his initial answer then grinned.

"Maybe a little," he stood and walked around his desk to pull Murtagh to his feet. "Don't worry about making friends. Keep her out of trouble and keep her alive, and leave the rest to me."

"What if I hurt her feelings?" Murtagh mocked, knowing how emotional women could be. Harsh words were his specialty, rule or no. Galbatorix grinned and turned him around, herding him towards the door.

"She was raised by sailors, Murtagh; do you really think she can't handle anything you throw at her?" Murtagh glowered but said nothing as he was ushered out the door. "Now, go pick her up from the library and play nice." Ignoring how the door slammed behind him, Murtagh reached out for Thorn with his mind. He found the red dragon resting from their long flight, but held not guilt towards waking him.

_You scaly, spineless bastard! You knew. _He heard the dragon sigh and yawn at the same time, an interesting combination.

Thorn rolled his eyes and directed his rider towards the library. _Will you please just go retrieve the girl? Unlike some people I'm actually looking forward to her company. _

_Her dragon is just a few weeks old; you can't fuck her yet…Idiot. _The snarl he received was enough to make him chuckle darkly as he took the steps up two at a time. Soon he was slamming the library doors open and sweeping the room for his bride-to-be. The idea still made him shudder, and he knew for sure he would be drinking himself to oblivion in the next few days. _I don't need a wife. _

_Then don't take her as a wife. Take her as a recruit. _Military terms Murtagh understood, so Thorn connected something Murtagh hated to something he loved. It worked well enough, anything to do with war made Murtagh happy. It wasn't the best interest to have, but it kept his mind off other things. _And you understand whores, so use that to your advantage. _

_So I've gone from a single, free man to married to a whore who probably won't be spreading her legs for me?_

Thorn grinned, _sounds about right. _Murtagh rolled his eyes at the scarlet dragon and continued to search the room. When he finally found her and Eragon sitting at a table across from each other, he had enough decency to pause and let them finish what they were reading. From all his time spent reading in that very room (unwillingly, of course) Murtagh recognized the passage immediately.

"The Fall of Mad King Palancar," he looked down at them grimly, knowing how bloody the story was. "One of my favourites," he added, just so the girl before him knew what kind of man he was. Neither of them needed any false pretenses. Her eyes widened, giving Murtagh the opportunity to take in the pale blue color.

_Ooh good, your children will be attractive. _Murtagh fought down a growl at Thorn's words. _Or at least, half attractive; her good looks might make up for your ugly ones, at least. _In return, he grunted. Eragon understood he was talking to Thorn and that physical reactions were normal as they would be in any other conversation. Caislyn, however, looked at him like he was crazy.

Maybe it was better that way, _maybe she'll leave me alone if she thinks I'm insane. _He nodded a goodbye to his brother, agreeing to Eragon's mentions of catching up sometime in the next few days. Once the door clicked closed behind the other rider, Murtagh found himself alone with the girl.

He looked down his nose at her, briefly glancing over her bright red hair and dark tan skin. Begrudgingly, he admitted somewhere in the back of his mind that she was good looking enough. As soon as Thorn began to rub it in his face, however, he smacked the idea away, _I've seen better though. _Unknown to Murtagh, the dragon rolled his eyes. "Come," he commanded, turning on his heel and listening to make sure the girl followed. When he heard her scurry he smiled, _I must have made a good first impression._

Caislyn followed along behind him quietly, looking down at her feet. She felt Aave pressuring her, trying to get her to speak with the man who walked in front of them, but refused. The little hatchling prancing along by her feet started in on a rant about how it was their duty, _you should at least get to know him, _the white dragon claimed, but even with that Caislyn was terrified.

_I do not want to "get to know him"! He is a horrible man! _

_Stop being so dramatic, could he really be that bad? _The underlying question was "could he really be as bad as others before him?" Caislyn didn't want to remember all the horrible men who had mistreated her over the years, but the question made her admit he would have to try pretty hard to make it on the list. Aave purred in accomplishment. _Just try… for me. _That was the icing on the cake. Caislyn glanced down to the hatchling then back to the strange man leading her towards the bedroom she had been using. There was no doubt in her mind: this was the Red Rider.

Her eyes widened when she thought of state she left his chambers in. _Does he know I've been living in there while he was gone? _Her heart stopped. The room was a mess when she left it, what would his reaction be? Murtagh, as they called him so casually, didn't seem like the type to just shrug things off and move on. He was not as mellow as his brother, from what she had heard. Even Eragon had had his moments since she had known him. Caislyn gulped.

_Relax about the room, he will not be mad. The servants would have cleaned it by now. _Aave, ever the voice of reason, soothed her rider once again. Since the girl was calming down again, Aave decided to push a second time. _Now talk to him, will you? _

_I don't want to talk to him, _she repeated, her eyes trailing over from her boots to his heels. Aave settled for what she could get and tried for looking at him, at least. She pushed Caislyn's eyes upward, past his calves that were hidden by loose trousers and hamstrings that flexed with every step. Despite herself, Caislyn was surrounded by bad thought and she heard her dragon snickered. _I don't want to look at him either! _The white rider looked away and shoved the thoughts back.

Again her eyes flicked up to him, finding his back far more interesting than the marble below them. Aave, not wanting to interrupt the beginnings of progress, said nothing. "You're strong." Caislyn blurted out once her eyes caught his biceps stretching. Immediately a flush rose to her cheeks.

Murtagh's eyebrow quirked up just the slightest bit, and even Thorn stopped talking to him. They both just paused, confused. _Well that was random. _Looking over his shoulder, he stopped walking long enough for her to pull up beside him instead of trailing behind. Deciding she hadn't really done anything _wrong, _even in his book, and the compliment wasn't unappreciated, Murtagh thought of something to answer her with. "You're short," he said, looking down at her. It was true; she was a good foot shorter than he, not uncommon for a woman.

Caislyn didn't know how to respond, and thankfully another few steps brought them to his door. Never a gentleman, he didn't hold the door open for her and instead went in first. Murtagh ignored her and headed straight for the bathroom for a hot bath after so many weeks without. Caislyn watched him until he disappeared then nearly dropped herself onto the bed. _You might want to do the same, young one, _a dragon's voice rang in her head, and she jackknifed out of bed so fast she lost her balance and fell.

Looking up, she saw Thorn looking down at her with worry in his eyes, but he made no move to help her even if he could. He lay on a large cushion on the other side of the room, opposite of the bed, and made room for Aave to join him as the hatchling approached. Caislyn's eyes glanced towards the other door, _another bathroom? _She stood and entered, knowing she needed a bath just as much as he.

When she exited, hair wet and hanging over her shoulder, Murtagh was already lying down on the bed and Thorn was slowly falling asleep, Aave snoring softly next to the large red male. Caislyn glanced between the two and the empty part of the bed, obviously for her. Aave would want her to slide in next to him, to play nice, to try. So, she tried.

Caislyn quietly slipped under the covers, carefully keeping to her own side. Murtagh felt the mattress sink with her weight and glanced over at her only to find her staring at him. His brow furrowed when she did not look away, "what?" he rasped, voice rough with exhaustion. The girl refused to drop her gaze, reminding him her eyes were startlingly bright compared to her skin.

Though she did not know Alagaesian as well as she needed to, she tried. "Wrong?" She asked, frowning at him. Of course the Red Rider was unhappy with their situation, but the least he could do was try in return. They were stuck with each other, weren't they?

Murtagh glared at her, "of course something is **wrong**!" He growled, eyes darkening and genuinely frightening her. "I don't want to be married to some girl I don't know. I'm not a prince, nor a Lord, it is not my responsibility." Her face did not betray her emotions, and after a few minutes without a response, Murtagh rolled his eyes and face away from her. "Now shut up and go to sleep." The candles died and the room filled with darkness. Murtagh only heard her shift around once before he fell asleep.

* * *

Eragon squinted from the high winds, knowing there was no hope for seeing anything from such heights but trying anyways. _You said how much longer? _He asked the dragon beneath him who was causing such winds with the flaps of her great wings. He felt her smile at his discomfort,

_Just a few minutes, we are nearing the town now. _The town in question came into sight just before the manor did, filling Eragon with joy.

He had not seen Rhonny in a long while, and this time he had a surprise for her. While Galbatorix had been distracted with his older brother, Eragon had snuck Slenvi out for the day and couldn't wait to see how his friend got along with his wi- _err… soon-to-be wife._ The titles were still fuzzy to him. Could she still want him after just a taste of what his life would be like with the war? Staying at the oasis he could afford to be relaxed and do practically nothing every day, but now his schedule was much more hectic.

_Eragon, she will still love you even if you're busier. You're still the same man. _Saphira always offered him the best advice, drawing on the innate knowledge she seemed to possess in the depths of her mind.

_But this is no life for a… _

_A woman? _She finished for him, snorting. _Eragon, I think you'll find Rhonny wasn't raised to be as docile and polite as the woman of your village. If she doesn't like something, I have no doubt she will tell you. _Eragon sighed, knowing she was right but still not liking the idea. _I think you're just homesick, or wife-sick, rather. Wait until tomorrow after you have spent some time relaxing with her like you used to and then ask yourself the same question. _

Saphira flared her wings a little wider, pulling up and back for a smooth landing. Slenvi wasn't used to flying on a dragons back (the red rider had refused to transport anyone on Thorn's back and no one really tried to negotiate with him) so his arm tightened around Eragon's middle. The elf heard Eragon chuckle at his reaction and heat rose to his face.

After unstrapping himself from the saddle, he gestured for Slenvi to toss their bags down and for the elf to follow suit. With Slenvi behind him, Eragon loosened Saphira's saddle enough so she could merely shake it off in her tower without his help then turned towards the front door. The bounce in his step was obvious but his voice was careful, "quickly, before the clouds open up and it begins to rain."

Slenvi scurried behind him, glancing up at the darkening sky with worry. "How will I be returning to the castle, Eragon?" The rider grinned.

"I doubt the King will be terrible upset if you stay for the night and fly back with Saphira and me in the morning," Eragon said as he opened the door. The sounds of pounding bare feet filled the air and thankfully he was out of the doorway before Rhonny tackled him or they would've landed on the steps outside. Eragon stumbled back and had to use the wall for balance. The girl in his arms was laughing and kissing him like he had died and come back to life.

Eragon grinned but forced himself to pry her away from his face. "Rhonny," he breathed, winded from her flying hug and the excitement of seeing her again. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him but he watched them darken dangerously as soon as Slenvi slipped in behind him. It was strange of her to back away from the elf, but she did, and at once Eragon remembered her mother and how she hated elves because of it. "Oh gods, Rhonny, it's alright. He's my friend."

Rhonny glanced at him once but then her eyes remained firmly trained onto the blonde elf next to him. Eragon took a step forward to console her but she drew away, still glaring.

Slenvi decided it was now or never and stepped in. "I apologize for whatever my kind has done to you, but not all of us are that bad. You are not the only one who has been wronged before," Rhonny glowered up at him for a moment. After seeming to make a decision in her head, she raised her hand to shake his and was rewarded with a dazzling smile. It was something she couldn't help but return willingly.

Eragon breathed a sigh of relief and walked a few feet to set his packs on the bottom of the stairs, "Eragon," his head snapped up and he found Rhonny standing right behind him, hands on her hips. Had her tone not been so sharp he would've smiled at the pose. "I like him. You should keep him around." Eragon blinked and just like that she kissed his cheek and was walking away towards the kitchen.

"Uhh…" Eragon didn't know what to think. He turned to Slenvi who was looking very pleased with himself. "What just..? How did you..?"

"Wine?" Rhonny popped up next to him and handed him a glass before skirting towards the parlor. Slenvi followed after her, striking up a conversation. Eragon looked down at the drink in his hands for a moment.

"The hell is going on?" He whispered, taking a long swig and then headed for the other room as well. _Strange woman, very strange. _

* * *

**I'm already planning out Part Three, by the way. Part Two is already planned out :) Now I just need to write like crazy!**

I actually wrote this the same day the last chapter went up. GO ME 8D

**Next Update: Sometime... later on...**


	57. Perks

Enjoy a long chapter everyone! 83

**I want to hit 200 reviews before this baby is over. That would make me very, very happy.**

* * *

Galbatorix blinked away the sleep fogging his head. Normally he could awaken quite quickly, if there was reason to, but today he felt content to arise slowly. Closing his eyes to the light the filtered through the drapes, he brought a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Gods, I haven't slept that well in ages," he mumbled, dropping his hand back to his side. He rolled onto his side and blinked a few more times, only remembering what had occurred the night before when his eyes fell upon the body of a woman next to him.

A sleepy grin climbed onto his face as he raked his eyes down any skin bared to him. He found looking to be not nearly enough and immediately slung an arm over her waist to drag her closer so he could touch. _Little pet, _he thought, pressing her back against his chest and wrapping his arm around her possessively. Had anyone told him just a year ago he'd find himself in this situation he would've scoffed at their words. _"The King has no time for a wife_," he had always said to them when the nobles pushed their daughters in his direction.

_Is that what this is?_ Did he want to take Trianna as his Queen, or just keep her as his BlackHand? Despite himself, Galbatorix grinned at the title. _Hand of the King, how ironic. With her around I will never have to use my own hand again. _A snort rose in his throat but he fought it down, instead dipping his head into the crook of her neck and leaving a trail of kisses from her shoulder to her jaw. Trianna stirred a bit in her sleep but did not awaken. _Just going to have to try harder then, _he thought with a smile.

His hand slowly crept up from her stomach to her breast, cupping the soft flesh and brushing the pad of his thumb over the forming peak. Trianna gasped when he tweaked the bud between his fingers, her eyes beginning to flutter open. Galbatorix continued to leave kisses on her neck, spurred on by her soft moan. The first time he took her he had thought she was exceedingly vocal just to please him, but after the first few times he realized it was just how she reacted. He loved it more than he was willing to admit; her sounds always prompted such a strong response in him as well.

"Good morning," he breathed into her ear when her eyes popped open, his hand having found the button between her legs. Her head turned and she looked up at him, blue eyes suddenly very awake.

"A very good morning, my King," she whispered back, twisting to kiss him. It was easy for her to leave his lips and instead kiss down his neck, as even lying next to her he was far higher up on the bed. Galbatorix sighed, knowing he had to leave her no matter how tempting she was.

"And unfortunately a lonely one it will be," he retracted his hand from between her legs and rolled over, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Trianna sat up and watched him, her cheeks flushed from his teasing.

"My King?" she questioned, wondering why he had to leave so soon. Surely they had a bit of time?

"I told Shruikan we would be taking the other riders out for the day. I could lie to Eragon and Murtagh, but Shruikan would never leave me be." He pulled on his smallclothes and walked to his closest, continuing to lay out his day for her to hear. "Then I have to meet with the Northern Great Lords and plan for the harvest." He laced up the front of his pants partially and walked out, donning a dark tunic as he went. "I may not see you again until after your evening meal." He finished tying his pants and buckling his belt, tying his scabbard around his waist. Only then did he look up to meet her eyes again.

Trianna pouted at first, not liking the idea of him being so busy. Had he been anyone else, she might've suspected him of spending time with another woman, but not only was he clearly infatuated with her, the King had little time for such games. It was the Lords you had to watch out for, they held enough power and money to get any woman they wanted, but not enough responsibility to keep themselves busy all day. "When do you leave?"

"Now," he said, walking over to kiss her where she kneeled, almost at his level with the help of the bed. She grabbed onto his collar before he could walk away.

"No time for breakfast?" He looked into her eyes, forehead nearly pressed against her own.

"I will grab something on my way out," the grip on his shirt tightened when he once again moved to leave. He growled at her, wondering what it was she wanted. _Certainly it can wait until tonight?_ "What is it, little pet?"

Her blue eyes shining mischievously, Trianna pushed him back a few steps to crawl off the bed. When she kneeled in front of him and snagged her fingers on his belt instead of his collar, Galbatorix's eyebrows shot up. "Surely you can spare a minute or two, my King."

Galbatorix grinned as she started unlacing his trousers. "Perhaps."

* * *

Murtagh sat across from Eragon, both riders looking utterly bored. Caislyn sat next to his brother, but after briefly nodding to them both there was no interaction between the three riders. Eragon had the girl giggling at something he said, making Murtagh roll his eyes and look away, right hand idly stroking the pommel of his sword. Being the only ambidextrous rider was something Murtagh held with pride, and he doubted the girl would challenge his title as such. _She probably can't even wield a sword,_ he thought, smirking to himself.

In their little growing group, the underlying positions were firmly established. Murtagh and Thorn were used as the muscle, despite Thorn being smaller than Shruikan. Neither of them cared for politics or word games (though they were adept at both, if the need arose) so they were okay with being the ones to bring down buildings and armies singlehandedly. Thorn housed a quiet acceptance of their role, but his rider took an utter joy in his job. He had no qualms being the muscle of the group; if it kept the others from constantly bugging him and the people of the Empire from bothering him as well, he was all for it. Peasants and Lords alike feared him equally, if not more, than Galbatorix. While the king controlled his potential rage, Murtagh was quick to draw his sword and bash a few heads.

The King himself was quite obviously the brains of the operation. Shruikan and Galbatorix had spent over a century planning and plotting their moves, studying their opponents and taking a less direct approach to their problems. They had countless nobles assassinated over the years, slowly picking away the corrupted and the corruptible until only a handful righteous men remained on their council. While Murtagh was busy wreaking havoc on the battlefield, Galbatorix was bringing down the very fabric of the country and replacing it with something far better.

It had worked nicely for some three years, and even before that Murtagh was helping his King. He hadn't been the official "muscle" until Thorn came into the picture. Now, with Eragon in the group and Caislyn just popping up out of nowhere, Murtagh cast his eyes over the two newcomers and considered them.

He was sure Galbatorix meant to use Eragon as a figurehead of sorts. His younger brother was all smiles, with his unassuming charm and pretty boy looks. _Stupid boy, _Murtagh had once thought, looking at Eragon subconsciously woo every woman he came into contact with. His dragon was even better though, with her "justice for all" mindset and pretty blue scales. Yes, Murtagh was sure the King would flaunt them whenever he needed the favor of the people.

But the girl, what could they do with the girl? _Absolutely nothing,_ Murtagh was sure of it.

_Don't be so mean, _Thorn chided him and Murtagh frowned outwardly.

_Have you been listening in this whole time? _

_Of course, and I think the girl would make an excellent thief. _

_Thief? The girl has no skills, _Murtagh snorted at the idea. _And what do we need a thief for? I can simply kill them and take whatever it is Galbatorix needs so badly._

_There are some things brute force cannot get you, Murtagh. Perhaps Galbatorix means to train her in the ways of sneaking and charming, she is the only female rider. _

_What does it matter what is between her- oh. _Despite himself, Murtagh felt the heat curl up his neck, and Thorn's chuckling did not help.

_See?_ _I'm sure the King will make use of her given powers. A hidden blade, if you will. _

_If what you say is true, why give her to me to train? I am the exact opposite of stealthy. _Murtagh could sneak when he needed to but it was certainly not on his resume.

He felt Thorn think over his words before the red dragon replied. _Well it might be because you are the exact type of man she would be in training to take down? Thinks with his cock and is quick to push others around. She spars with you; you're both learning how to deal with a new type of opponent. And how often do you think she had been manhandled her whole life? Don't you think Galbatorix will teach her to channel that sense of vengeance into whatever she is doing? _

Surprisingly, Murtagh did not grow angry at Thorn's words. He knew exactly what type of man he was, he wasn't going to change just because yet another person called him on it. The dragon had proven his point, and Murtagh was a big enough man to admit he could be right. _Fine, the girl might have some use after all. We shall see once she finds a suitable weapon and starts to practice with it. _

Right after Murtagh finished that thought to Thorn, Galbatorix stepped into the great meeting hall and beckoned them from their seats. It was Eragon who questioned him, "what are we doing today, my King?" Murtagh rolled his eyes at the title but said nothing, staying quiet to hear the King's answer.

"Shruikan wished for us all to go flying today and that is what we shall do. Summon your dragons and have them meet us on the front steps." Already Murtagh felt Thorn moving from his place in the sun on the roof, diving down through the air towards the doors of the palace.

"Are we spending all day in the sky?" Murtagh glanced at Eragon again, knowing his brother wanted nothing more than to get off easy and return to Rhonny, the girl who he kept at the manor. Had he not heard the Blue Rider talk so much of love and marriage he would've accused him of keeping her as a whore and nothing more. Of course, Eragon wasn't that kind of man. Murtagh wouldn't mind the day off either, but that was more so he could get a head start on his preplanned "drunk night" he had been looking forward to for a while. He had told Galbatorix not to bother him and although Thorn scoffed he knew the dragon would keep him company anyway.

Murtagh blinked once from the bright lights on the other side of the door but his step did not falter. He swung Thorn's saddle up onto the dragon's back, surprisingly happy to be doing so. _I thought you wanted to get ahead on your "drunk night"? _Thorn asked smugly.

_Shut up or I will. _He tightened the cinch of the saddle and leapt onto Thorn's back, contently strapping himself until he felt someone staring at him. It was that girl, _Caitlyn or whatever her name is._

_Her name is Caislyn. CAZ-LYNN. _Thorn enunciated, engraining it into his rider's memory.

_Whatever. _He stared back at her, glancing to the small hatchling she held in her arms like a pet. Murtagh felt his eyebrow quirk up just in the slightest, wondering what she could possibly want with him.

"Murtagh, Aave is not yet large enough to ride. Bring Caislyn atop Thorn with you," Galbatorix ordered as he swung his leg over the other side of his own saddle and strapped himself in, Shruikan already turning around beneath him.

Murtagh growled and undid the buckles on his legs to get down and help her up knowing she would have no idea how to do it herself. First he took Aave from her arms and put her in one of the side pouches secured to the side of the saddle, carefully making sure the hatchling could poke her head out and look around. Despite himself, a small smile appeared on his face when she did just that. Then his usual disinterest returned when he turned back to Caislyn and hoisted her up by her waist. She was surprisingly light even for a woman, but he figured that was from her small stature.

Then he sat behind her and redid the buckles, strapping her legs in as he strapped his in as well. It left them pressed against each other quite snugly, as the saddles weren't meant to hold more than 2-3 and Murtagh didn't have much use for a large one.

Thorn turned and launched, his wings pumping smoothly to catch up to Saphira and Shruikan. The other dragons weren't moving away particularly quickly, but Thorn knew jerking forward would make both Murtagh and Caislyn's hands fly to the saddle horn to balance themselves. Murtagh frowned at his dragon's train of thought, his knuckles turning white on the horn.

Caislyn didn't know what to do with her hands, but with every flap of Thorn's wings she was pressed back against Murtagh's chest, which wouldn't do, so she clung onto his arms to steady herself. She looked up and back at him in apology at the forced closeness, but the Red Rider refused to look down at her and found interest in the clouds around them.

When Thorn reached the other dragons, he ignored Murtagh's grumbling and put all his attention into the lesson Shruikan had for them. The older dragon was going to take advantage of having them both for the day, so he began to tell them about how the war was started and how it was important to the kingdom, despite its bad reputation. Thorn had heard this all before, but he found the stories interesting, far more so than whatever Murtagh had to say.

With the dragons attention elsewhere, Galbatorix turned to Murtagh and pulled out his "King voice" as Murtagh labeled it. The Red Rider was glowering before the King even finished the first sentence. "You are partners now, bonded. You know what you must do." Murtagh swore into his mind, cursing the King, but didn't let it show on his face.

"Yes, my king," he replied hoarsely, voice rough with frustration. He inhaled deeply once, trying to rein back his rage, and focused on connecting his mind to Caislyn's like Galbatorix had explained would be required. It was similar to his connection to Thorn, but much less potent. He could talk into her mind despite any wall she might learn to use and vice versa, but emotions would only be felt minutely. Emotions were not important in a working relationship, especially not the overpowering ones, but Galbatorix had made it clear he wanted them to know if the other was scared, hurt, upset, etc. It wouldn't be overwhelming, he would not feel her pain and she would not grow angry with him, but they would notice. He didn't need another mind reader, Thorn was enough alone, but Galbatorix had refused to budge on the matter.

The minute the connection was complete, Murtagh felt a rush of feelings. He growled, _seven hells girl, control yourself. _It was only then he realized another reason for the link: now she would be able to understand him and hold conversations. Not that he wanted to talk to her, but at least now she was able to.

Their joint knowledge was an amazing thing, even Murtagh had to admit. Galbatorix had explained when Thorn first hatched that the connection was the strongest thing between the pair; the real reason dragon riders were so important. The power of two minds available to either at will was a beautiful and deadly thing.

Murtagh felt a similar surge of awareness from Caislyn, and knew she was hit with waves from his as well. He didn't like the idea of sharing anything with her, but the new information wasn't unwanted, that's for sure. It was easy for Murtagh to suddenly ignore what Galbatorix was saying. _It probably doesn't even apply to me anyways. _He lost himself in her mind.

The words now holding meaning, Caislyn's language became comprehensible. Her feelings made sense, mixing and spreading amongst his. Despite how much he hated the idea, Murtagh knew how useful such a link would be. Because Caislyn had no idea what was going on, he knew he had to be the one to explain it to her. He was the only one she understood fully, anyways. _Galbatorix thought it best our minds held a connection. _

Caislyn looked up at him, mouth parting, and for once Murtagh looked down at her in return. _It feels like Aave. _Murtagh snorted at her words.

_I am nothing like your dragon, girl, the link is just similar. _

Caislyn closed her mouth and nodded slightly, beginning to search through all the new things available to her. She was free to explore his mind, save for a few spaces hidden deep in the crevices she found, but she did not let curiosity overcome her and left those vaults alone. Instead, she went swimming in his conscience, staring wide eyed at how his mind worked and how he viewed the world. Memories were hidden, apparently, and she realized he did not want her touching those either._ Why do you not want to share this with me? _

Murtagh glanced down at her again, and had she been looking his dark eyes would've startled her like they always did. The dark brown was near to black, so similar to the eyes of her own people. The first time she had looked up at his face, Caislyn had immediately wondered if he had some Red Blood in him. _Listen girl, I… My life is private. I share with you because the King asks me to, no other reason. Anything you do not need, you will not get. _With that, Murtagh turned his attention back to Galbatorix who was speaking to Eragon about the elves and how they will play a part in their own demise. Murtagh had heard the majority of it already but he listened anyways, not really wanting to continue the conversation with Caislyn.

Caislyn looked down at the horn of the saddle, thinking. It was difficult to keep her thoughts from flooding into his mind, but she tried and, much to her surprise, Murtagh helped her. Of course, he was doing it to keep his own mind clear of clutter, but the gesture was still there. _Perhaps he is trying, _unfortunately, it seemed this thought made it to his mind and she felt his arms tense around her.

_Trying at what exactly, girl? _He growled at her, but his words lost their malice when she could feel his curiosity rising.

_This, _she answered in a whisper, eyes sweeping down around them at the houses and fields below. Murtagh was at a loss for words. In a very un-rider like way, his mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was trying to think of something to say. It occurred to her that while nastiness came quite easily to him, it was not his first reaction to everything. So, with that in mind, she continued. _I know you are not pleased to be in this… _She searched for the right word, Alagaesian still not completely understood in her mind. _This situation. But if we are going to be **partners**, I hope we can at least learn to work with each other. _

Murtagh frowned, hating how sensible her request was. _Damn it all to the seventh hell, _he thought, glaring straight out in front of him to the back of Thorn's head. The dragon was staying dormant in this whole ordeal, refusing to offer his advice, and through Caislyn he felt Aave listening intently to Shruikan's words and probably completely oblivious to what was being exchanged between the two riders. _Perhaps… I am going to be stuck with you for a while. _

He felt something strange in her mind and tried to ignore it, not wanting to get involved more than he should. Then, she returned to his mind and spoke, her voice as strong and determined as ever, _good. I shall stay out your way as much as possible._

Murtagh just grunted in response to her. There was a fat chance they would have more than a sliver of alone time in the next few months. With the war going on Galbatorix was focusing on training Caislyn and Aave into top shape and starting them in on the Ancient Language. With their new connection, Murtagh would be the one leading Caislyn around and mentoring her despite Eragon taking a liking to reading to her. Eragon had work to do of his own; the Blue Rider was almost as far behind as Caislyn was when it came to spells, and while his physical shape had improved Murtagh knew Galbatorix would demand more. Once her training was as finished as they could manage, Galbatorix would pair Murtagh and Caislyn up at every possible chance.

Sighing in irritation at his own solid logic, Murtagh tuned back into the lesson yet again, trying and failing to maintain his focus. Thankfully Caislyn was a far better student than he and she filled him in subconsciously. Murtagh admitted to himself there might be perks to the link after all.

* * *

Shruikan looked down at the white hatchling sitting at his feet staring back up at him. Aave had cornered him in the hallway and requested an audience, not about to let him move until he relented to her proposed idea. It was clear she was set on it, and while her suggestion was practical, Shruikan still feared the worst for his hatchling.

_Are you sure, young one? _

_Yes, my King. The growth spell you performed on Thorn will be beneficial to me and the war. I will be no use to you at this size, and even when my Rider is ready to fight I will still be dreadfully small. _She was right of course, and regrettably the white dragon knew it. Shruikan sighed and stood.

_Very well, let us talk to the King. _Aave led the way down the hall towards the King's door. Galbatorix had been politely ignoring their conversation, as was proper when it involved Shruikan and another dragon. Dragon business was never to be shared unless absolutely necessary and Shruikan always told him what he needed to know.

"Hello Shruikan, Aave," Galbatorix nodded to them both behind his desk, sitting back in his comfy chair and waiting for them to settle in before questioning their visit. "What brings you to my office at such a late hour?" After finally ushering out the Northern Great Lords, Galbatorix was just finishing up the proposed document signing and had hoped to head to bed very soon. Shruikan understood this, and Aave got right to the point.

_I wish to receive the same growth spell you bestowed upon Thorn, my King. _Galbatorix's eyebrows shot up and he glanced at his own dragon, wondering what had prompted the dark master to even consider such a notion.

_It is only practical to speed up her growth cycle. She will not be able to perform like we need her to if we leave it to nature itself. _Galbatorix glanced between the two dragons, thinking.

"You support this even after seeing what it put Thorn through?" Shruikan's eyes dropped to the floor, for once unsure of himself. Aave persisted for him, however.

_Please, my King, I wish to help the Empire, and I cannot do that at such a small size. No one will fear or respect a dragon the size of a glorified housecat. I am far more ready than Thorn was; my mind is developed while my body is not. _Her childlike voice deceived others. Behind the voice of a young hatchling sat the mind of a hundred year old egg. Aave had waited long enough to get involved with the war raging around her; she would not wait longer just because her body did not grow as fast as she needed it to.

"Very well," Galbatorix consented, already thinking up how he would have to go about this whole ordeal. "However, there are some rules." Aave perked up.

_Of course, anything, _the white hatchling was eager, perhaps a bit too much so, but Galbatorix said nothing about it.

"You will be knocked out for a few days as the spell works to save you from the majority of the pain, but when you awaken you will be sore and raw. You will be vulnerable, despite your new size, and some might seek to exploit that. I ask that you stay either in the castle or with one of the other dragons for protection. Caislyn will be weak as well, but she will already be with Murtagh so you do not have to worry."

Aave bowed her head in respect, _I accept these terms. _

"I hope you are ready, young one," Galbatorix whispered, his spell already on the tip of his tongue. The white dragon would grow five times her size in the next three days. Her body would be half the size of Saphira's, but that could be altered if she merely asked politely. As she was the newest, it might throw the others off a little too much if she was suddenly the size of Shruikan. But for the week after that she would continue to grow slowly, and by the time the spell ended she would be nearly Saphira's size.

Shruikan held Aave in his paw as the young hatchling quickly fell asleep, the first spell taking effect. Galbatorix met his eyes; a tired green met a worried gold. It went unspoken that Shruikan would not be happy if something happened to her, but Galbatorix silently assured him things would be just fine.

* * *

**I'm already planning out Part Three, by the way. Part Two is already planned out :) Now I just need to write like crazy!**

I actually wrote this the same day the last chapter went up. GO ME 8D

**Next Update: Sometime... later on...**


	58. One of the Few

**Reviews are appreciated, my lovelies. **

**No line breaks in this one, but the next one (already written, be proud of me) is FILLED with them. Heh.**

* * *

"Faster," Murtagh ground out, glaring down at the girl before him. His patience with her sloppy technique was wearing thin; they were getting absolutely nowhere. After another minute of trying on her part, he grabbed her arm and pushed her so she sat down on the floor. "Alright, alright, take a break." Caislyn's forehead was shining with sweat, and he could see more of it beading on the balls of her neck, hair darkening with it. He shook his head and looked away from her, missing the familiar weight of his sword on his hip. Zarroc lay on his bed in his chambers and suddenly he felt lonely with it so far away. Surprising her, Murtagh sat down across from Caislyn.

"That was terrible," his voice was hoarse from all the yelling he had done that morning. The servants with any brains whatsoever had avoided this part of the palace as his roaring could be heard no matter where you went. Thankfully, Galbatorix did not come to see what was going on, for if he had Murtagh might have just told him off right there and gotten himself into even more trouble thanks to his temper. The girl was infuriating, to say the least, and Murtagh wasn't one to fall for her doe eyes and polite words.

"I'm trying," she panted with a thick accent, still short of breath from the exercise. Murtagh raised an eyebrow at her, ignoring how husky her voice sounded lest their exercises change drastically.

"I know you are," his words almost sounded reassuring, making Caislyn look up and meet his gaze. Anyone could see the hard annoyance on his fast, but in his mind she felt a mixture of pride and hope as well.

_Perhaps I am doing better than he lets on, _she thought to herself, and stared into his eyes again. "What is the point of this much physical training? I'll never be as strong as you."

Murtagh's eyebrow twitched up a fraction, and through his mind again she felt a hint of… embarrassment? Compliments were not something he was used to, at least not genuine ones. Plenty of whores and nobles alike had praised his skills and respected his position, but there was never much admiration in their voice. Lust maybe, but not sincere awe. Sensing her in his mind already, he took down the partial walls he had and welcomed her, making her stumble in. A smirk tumbled across his face. _Since you're here already, I may as well show you._

It was her turn for heat to crawl up her neck. _I'm sorry; I did not mean to intrude. _

Murtagh snorted, _of course not. Now shut up and pay attention. _His usual gruffness no longer made her bristle, in fact she somewhat welcomed his harsh honesty throughout the day. If everyone else lied to her, Murtagh would not.

Images of war and battles flashed through his mind and she watched, aware these were the memories he had first not wanted to share with her. Then the pictures moved onto actual training, and suddenly she felt like she was running the obstacle course there with him. She could feel his heart pounding as he raced over the pillars, leaping from one top to the other as his legs burned pleasantly. His lungs swelled with air, his system in perfect harmony and all working towards one goal: the end of the course. From the last pillar he dived to the ground, rolling to take the jarring voice from his legs and distribute it equally along his limbs. From there he sprinted, the room blurring around him, and slid into the finish line.

There, the dreamlike memory faded from view and she was left just looking into the darkness of Murtagh's mind. Feeling her own body again for the first time since he drew her in, she realized her heart was pounding and her face was flushed as if she had been the one training. _Wow, _she breathed, once again trying to catch her breath.

Murtagh held down the pride that blossomed from her amazement, keeping it from her view. _Yeah, wow. You'll have to be able to do that. _Caislyn felt him turn his head and stare at the other side of the room, where the challenge lay. With his permission, Caislyn looked through his eyes for the first time and her own widened at the sight.

_I can't do that, _she whispered, both astonished and scared. If his memory was any proof, one had to be in top physical shape in order to complete it without breaking a few bones. _I mean, you barely did it and you're…_She trailed off, unable to find the right word in either of their languages. Murtagh shrugged at her words, knowing what she was trying to say.

_You'll get there. _Over the last few days she had been a witness to how strangely kind the Red Rider to be, but it was rarely when others were around. Through his mind she had heard him talking with Thorn with something close to love in his voice, and despite herself she wondered if she would ever hear that voice projected towards her. This was one of the few times she had gotten something other than gruff words from him, so she counted it as pretty close. He was grumpy with Thorn a lot too, so she reasoned that was just how he treated people. Still, she waited for the times when his voice lowered and softened, smoothing out yet still maintaining its raspy nature. Caislyn admitted to his voice being somewhat… attractive sounding, when he wasn't yelling all the time.

She was stunned out of her train of thought when she felt Murtagh clear his throat at her. _OH, _she had forgotten he could hear her think in return. Sometimes it was hard to remember he was always there off the side and listening from the shadows. Heat rose to her face and she withdrew from his mind as far as she could, but the connection prevented her from exiting completely.

Murtagh shook his head and stood, "do you always give out compliments this much?"He was back to growling, using anger to keep an intimate conversation at bay. "Or did you learn it in your previous line of work?_" _

Caislyn stood up as well, wiping away the sweat on the back of her neck that had begun to dry. "I praise those who deserve it," she tried, fighting down her own temper. It would not due to get even more on his bad side.

Murtagh rolled his eyes, striding over to the target where her knives were still wedged into the wood and the surrounding wall. "Save your pretty words for someone who believes them," He snapped, not believing he had almost spoken to her kindly. Galbatorix had told him to train her, not make friends. Not that Murtagh wanted a friend in the girl… "Now throw." Handing her the set of throwing daggers, he stepped behind her and crossed his arms, figuring the less vigorous practice would give her a break. He could see the way her muscles wavered when strained too far, and despite the urge to drill her until she dropped from exhaustion, he knew Galbatorix would give him a licking if he made the girl hurt more than necessary.

Caislyn tried, she really did, but her arms ached from the day before, new muscles forming beneath the fabric of her shirt leaving her raw and sensitive. The result was more holes in the wall than the target and a frightening snarl from Murtagh as he strode to retrieve her knives yet again. "**Again**."

They repeated until Caislyn could barely raise her arms from her sides, wincing whenever a dagger left her hand. Leaving her with one dagger still in her hands, Murtagh tugged her knives from their poor landing places. "Fucking horrible at best, girl," Murtagh growled at her, and Caislyn felt her rage bubble with his words. They had been at it for hours and she was tired. Too tired for polite words and too tired to brush off his insults.

"Oh yeah?" She growled right back, but he didn't so much as look at her.

"Yeah, did you even look at the board before you threw or did you just forget which direction it was in?" Caislyn knew he could feel her anger but she didn't care, she wasn't aiming for a surprise attack anyways.

When Murtagh turned, he staggered back and dropped the knives he was holding, eyes going wide. Caislyn stood before him across the room, falling out of her throwing stance and looking proud of herself. In his shoulder lay one of her smaller knives, barely three inches long.

Now, Murtagh was used to pain, he knew how to work through it, fight through it, and beat it down until it was nothing but a dull throb. But no matter how many times he went through it, whether it be from a slice of a sword, a well-placed arrow or a knife buried to the hilt in his shoulder, the initial shock always rocked him like any other man.

As blood pooled around the wound and began to stain his shirt, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, steeling himself to the pain. Thankfully she had thrown at his left shoulder, or else the knife would have pierced his heart. Finally ready to open his eyes again, he found Caislyn standing there now looking utterly shocked instead of accomplished. "By the Gods, I didn't mean- it wasn't supposed to actually- oh gods I'm so sor-"

"Shut up," he snarled, stalking towards her slowly, pain spreading from his shoulder to his chest and arm. "Just- shut up." He accepted the arm offered to him and Caislyn led him to a table and helped him sit down. He winced and prayed she didn't see, not wanting to admit she had hurt him so.

"Murtagh I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes flicking between his own and the dagger she had lodge in his flesh.

"Don't be. You finally did something fucking right for once," confusion towards his words was apparent, but Murtagh ignored her unspoken question to grasp the dagger's handle, biting down hard and sliding it out. His vision blurred, spots spreading until he could barely see. His breathing turned heavy and he found himself holding her hand to fight the pain. Even in his current state, he consciously tried very hard not to crush her hand in his, knowing it was very possible.

Then she helped him remove his shirt so he could heal the seeping wound, knowing if left he would surely faint after just a few more minutes. The bloody knife lay on the table behind them, still dripping with a mixture of bodily fluids. Gasping, Murtagh ran his fingers over the gash and muttered words foreign to her, a deep burgundy glow ignited under his touch. Fascinated, she watched the wound slowly stitch itself closed from the inside out. After a few minutes, it was like the dagger had never touched him.

Nerves in his shoulder still buzzing, Murtagh closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. Thorn knew better than to ask him what was wrong, having instead snuck through his mind to figure out what happened. Needless to say the red dragon had gone slack jawed at the idea of Caislyn embedding a knife into Murtagh so easily. On that note, Murtagh spoke, "it was a good throw."

He felt Caislyn's mind whirling with everything that had happened, but her happiness at his approval was evident even is such a mess. "Really?" Her eyes lit up. "I wasn't even thinking about it! And you turned around sooner than I anticipated so I thought it would… just hit the…wall…" She trailed off, going from overjoyed to guilty in one sentence. "I'm sorry."

"I told you before, don't be." Murtagh rarely said sorry, knowing the whole saying of "it's better to ask forgiveness than permission" was just pure bullshit. If you did something on purpose, you did it on purpose, there was no sorry involved. So he wasn't about to apologize for being rude with her, nor accept her apology in return.

"But I…" Murtagh opened his eyes to pin her with a glare.

"Girl, don't you know when to shut up?" Caislyn looked away from him, silent.

After a few minutes of just sitting next to each other, Murtagh spoke up again. "The knives suit you." She looked up to him as he stood and put his bloodied shirt back on. "Small, shiny, and a pain in everyone's side." As much as she obviously tried not to show it, her face fell. He felt a twinge of sadness come from her mind.

Nudging her side, he pulled her to her feet by her hand and helped her collect the knives he had dropped. "The broadsword suits you," she began and he looked up to her, wondering how she was going to return the insult. "Big…dramatic… and predictable," Their eyes caught as she spaced the words out as if considering each of them. His lips cracked up in a grin, the first one she had seen from him. There was no malice there, another first. Caislyn had seen her fair share of dark smirks from the Red Rider, but never a genuine smile.

Trying not to over react and dissuade him from smiling more in the future, she grinned back at him as they both straightened their backs. Murtagh handed her some of her knives as they returned to the table and sat back down. Their gazes trained onto the bloodied dagger resting there, still dripping with his blood. After wiping it clean with his already ruined shirt, he handed it back to her.

Glancing from his face to his hand, Caislyn carefully accepted the knife. For some strange reason, it felt different to her. When he caught her eyes again, she sent the strange feeling to him through their link and he seemed to understand. "It _is_ different."

"How so?" She asked, running her eyes along the short blade. It was the smallest of the set, yet now it felt like the most deadly.

"You lodged it in a Dragon Rider on your first try. I think that means it's pretty damn special." Caislyn grinned at his words.

"One of the few weapons to taste the Red Rider's blood?" She caught his eyes, expression almost coquettish.

"One of the few," Murtagh was most definitely one to brag when the situation allowed it. Few men had dared go up against him one on one, and even fewer still had managed to inflict damage on his person before he ruined them.

After a minute of silence with him just watching Caislyn run her finger up and down the small blade slowly, Murtagh stood. "Come on, girl, we've got more work to do." They had to catch up on their scroll reading, and he wasn't looking forward to having to spend his whole evening in the library. For just a split second he considered today would be less boring with the girl next to him, but he squashed that though immediately.

"Can I wash first?" He looked down at her, stank with dried sweat and a bit of his blood. Gods knew he needed a bath as well. As they exited the training room, Murtagh pretended to considering this after already making up his mind.

"Yes, if you don't take all fucking afternoon," he answered, voice returning to its usual growling tone. Caislyn scampered along behind him, rolling her eyes at his rudeness. Had she not been raised by sailors, she just _might_ take offense to his bad language. She wondered how long it was going to take him to realize mean words didn't ruffle her feathers. _Well, when I'm fully rested, _she admitted, knowing the incident earlier was not a testament to her patience.

They returned to his chambers, each going into one of the separate back rooms to clean the sweat and blood of their persons. _Is it considered our bedroom now? _She asked herself, and in turn, asked him. She heard him growling through the wall and through the connection.

_Fucks sake, can you at least wait until I finish taking a piss? _Caislyn turned the knob above the tub, wondering how the plumbing worked as Murtagh growled and grumbled at her, not liking how he had a girl in his head even while he was doing his business. _What were you whining about? _

They were both still adjusting to the link between their minds, but sometimes the connection seemed to work in both their favors. Or at least, it seemed to for a moment or two. They both got a pretty good look at each other as they both simultaneously stripped down and clambered into their respective tubs. Caislyn had let go of her modesty long ago, and Murtagh wasn't vain enough to care what his body really looked like. However, for once in his life he was thankful his job kept him in excellent shape regardless of how sore the training made him.

_Can I call it my bedroom too now? _Murtagh frowned, washing down his arms.

_What does it matter? _

_Well I want to put some white in it then. It's only fitting, seeing how I am not a second Red Rider. _Murtagh snorted.

_I don't care what the colors are as long as I can still sleep in the bed and hide wine in the dresser. _He found himself watching her lift her legs up out of the water and scrub them down, massaging the muscles there. Truthfully (and he would never tell her this) his eyes may have widened just in the slightest.

Caislyn (again, not one for modesty) shrugged at his words and moved the bar of soap up to her breasts. She could feel Murtagh's attention and may or may not have been toying with him a bit by taking longer on her chest and between her legs than she normally would have. It was easy to forget he found her attractive like any other man with him constantly barking at her, but with this new link he couldn't hide it from her. Grinning, Caislyn teased him, _not so bad yourself._

_Shut it, _he growled, but the words lost their venom when his dick twitched and the feeling grew painful. He had a woman looking into his mind, what the hell could he do?

_I live on a ship full with sailors for 10 years, Murtagh, just settle yourself, _he kept growling at her, building the walls around him mind so she wouldn't be able to keep watching him. He was a dragon rider dammit, not some horny teenage boy who fucked his own hand. It would be easy to just stand up and march over to her, to take her whether she liked it or not. But he was not his father, and no matter how hard his dick got he'd never let himself do it. And like hell he was going to ask for permission from her.

_Unless you plan on helping me along, I suggest you shut your trap. _It was not the best time to bother him, not when he was conducting a spell to get rid of his problem and cutting his bath short. While he toweled dry and dressed, he felt Thorn hovering in the back of his mind like he always did when Shruikan gave him a break from the lesson. _It's nothing, just the girl. _

As the dragon moved away, Murtagh cracked his knuckles and the joints in his back, earning some satisfying pops. It seemed his growling had shoved Caislyn out of her playful mood, because the girl stayed quiet and went about her own business. After a few minutes of standing there with nothing to do, Murtagh groaned impatiently and promptly kicked the door open, revealing her still in the tub. "I told you not to take all afternoon."

"It's barely been a half an hour!"

"You can soak later tonight when we're not supposed to be training, get out." Caislyn rolled her eyes and stood, figuring if he stayed and watched it would be him walking around stiffly for a good hour, not her. Murtagh merely turned his back and stalked back into the other room.

They were silent for the rest of the afternoon. Or at least, they never spoke aloud for others to hear. Their arguments continued on in their heads well into the evening.

At supper they ate with Eragon and the King, their dragons off eating as well. Murtagh surprised everyone by sitting next to her, but Caislyn didn't ask him about it. Galbatorix seemed not to notice, or maybe he was just holding his tongue as well. Eragon, however, was always one for conversation.

"So how was the training this morning?" It was an innocent question but Murtagh glowered down at his food all the same.

"She threw a knife into my shoulder." Eragon stopped eating, his eyes widening, but both Caislyn and Murtagh shrugged it off. "I handled it, obviously. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Damn," Caislyn muttered, and received a rough elbow to her upper arm. "Hey!"

"Shut up," he growled, unaware both Galbatorix and Eragon were exchanging glances.

"I would if you'd stop growling in my head." Murtagh huffed.

"I don't growl," he barked, obviously in denial. Eragon foolishly stepped into the conversation.

"Yes you do." This time Murtagh glared across the table at his brother.

"Now you shut up."

"Is that your only comeback?"

"Girl, I swear to god I will-"

"Now that is enough." The room fell silent after the King's voice boomed. Galbatorix sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his temple. "Murtagh, I noticed you've been falling behind on your spells, tomorrow I want you to take Caislyn to the library and catch up **before **you resume physical conditioning." Murtagh scowled but Caislyn prompted him to comply with a small nudge of her knee against his.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Eragon, I do believe Shruikan mentioned something about Saphira wanting to return to her eggs. Do that tomorrow, I give you leave from your duties for the day."

"Thank you, my King!" Murtagh was about to protest when Caislyn became his voice of reason once again.

_Don't complain, he is the King, _at her words Murtagh sighed and leaned back in his chair, leaving his plate half finished.

_Why does my brother get rewarded when I only get punished? _

_You're tougher than he is, you know that. _Indeed, he did know that. But it was nice to hear from someone else. Unknown to him, the others watched his lips quirk up into a small smile and wondered what was going on in his head.

* * *

Rereading this thing made me realize how much it sounds like Murtagh is getting a blowjob in the beginning 81 *cough* This was obviously not the case. Sorry most of these chapters have been about Murtagh and Rhonny, they're just so easy for me to write and the're undeveloped/under-used compared to the rest of them.

**Next Update: ...Well, school starts next week. I don't know if I'll be writing more (afterschool of course, it helps me de-stress) or less (I might have too much homework to get some serious bulk done on the weekdays) but I'm thinking updates will happen on Sunday or Monday from now on, giving me the weekend to get things done :) Wish me luck with school!  
**


	59. Gentleness

**Reviews are appreciated, my lovelies. **

**ALL THE LINEBREAKS! :D**

* * *

After the whole knife to shoulder incident, Caislyn stayed out of Murtagh's way the best she could. As predicted, they still saw each other every day, whether it be physical conditioning or learning new spells in the library.

Even if they received the day off, they still saw each when they woke up and went to bed. At meetings with the King and Eragon, sometimes Rhonny and Trianna as well, Murtagh sat next to Caislyn like it meant nothing, claiming it strengthened their link to be so close. The others seemed to accept this as a truth, undoubtedly thinking about how dragon-rider connections weakened over great distances without a bit of training. In truth, the connection between their minds was growing stronger every day. Murtagh just needed an excuse to sit next to her so they could nudge each other's knees and stomp on each other's toes. Such weird games made the meetings bearable.

The link they shared had gotten to the point of knowing what the other was thinking constantly throughout the day, even when they were in opposite sides of the castle. Thrice since then Murtagh had woken her up in the middle of the night to save Caislyn from her nightmares. They invaded his head as well, but unlike her he could detach himself from the fear emanating from her mind. Every night before they fell asleep something strange curled in Murtagh's chest as he watched her close her eyes. It was like he was readying for a battle, except the only opponent was in her mind. Often she was plagued by the horrors of her past, the cruelties men had inflicted upon her more than anything, but sometimes it was doubt from her new profession.

_The girl actually believes people might not like her,_ Murtagh snorted at the idea.

Caislyn looked up from her side of the bed, hairbrush frozen in her hair. She had heard him thinking about her and searched for answer.

Murtagh rolled his eyes at how she looked, so silly with her hands still on her hair, _finish your job, girl, lest you look like a half groomed porcupine in the morning. _

_Porcupine? _He flashed her a picture and was graced with a small giggle. That stupid something curled in his chest again, but he chose to ignore it. Soon Caislyn was standing to put the brush away and slipping in between the sheets with him.

It was strange feeling, not being safe in one's own thoughts. At least when he felt an enemy magician trying to scour through his thoughts he could just kill them, but with her he couldn't get rid of her. He found himself trying and failing to hide a lot of thoughts from Caislyn as of late, and what she wore to bed was not helping.

_My attire is not inappropriate, _she asserted, painfully unaware of why his mind was stuck on how much leg her nightgown revealed.

_No, it's not. _Caislyn's eyes widened when he agreed with her but for once she didn't push it. She was dreadfully tired after suffering from nightmares the night before, so she closed her eyes and just lay next to him with a few feet between them. "Hey Murtagh?"

"What?" His voice was rough and raspy as always, but it didn't sound as sharp as it usually did. He was too close to sleep to sound that angry.

"Will you…" He turned his head to look in her direction when she trailed off, only seeing black. When she did not continue, he went into her mind to see what was wrong.

He reared back abruptly, wanting to crush the idea as fast as possible and before Thorn could persuade him to be nice to her. "I do not snuggle. Go to sleep." He felt her twist away from him and thought that was the end of it. And it was… for a few minutes.

"Murtagh?" he sighed and turned back to her again.

"Yes?"

"Will you wake me up if I start screaming?" The question made him pause. Why wouldn't he?

"I'm going to have to if I want to get any sleep." His answer was gruff, but the meaning behind it was there, and it made Caislyn feel abnormally safe.

They slept well into the night until Murtagh was pulled out of his sleep by their shared dreams, feeling her fear building. This time, she dreamed of a man coming after her with a knife and his insides twisted when he realized it was more a memory than a dream. With a simple shake of her shoulders, her eyes shot open and she laid looking up at him for a moment, realizing where she was.

Caislyn latched onto him with surprising speed, tears leaking out from the edges of her eyes despite how she tried to hide them. Thankfully he still held himself up with an elbow or she surely would have crushed herself trying to hug him so close. Murtagh didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her in return, murmuring soft nonsense in her ear as she continued to cry and whimper. They laid there, him half on his side and half curling over her, with her head tucked underneath his chin and her arms enclosed around his waist.

His hand found the back of her head and his fingers slid into her half dried hair, secretly wondering how it could be so soft and unknotted after sleeping half the night. Caislyn's tears dried and her whimpers soon died after that, leaving her snuggly wrapped up in blankets and Murtagh, who she didn't know cared enough to do something like this.

She knew him perfectly capable of kindness, as he had showed her another side of himself without knowing. The side many saw was a soldier, tough and snarling at every little thing. There was still a childish side of him, something she had the honor of witnessing when he won a challenge against his brother a few days back. There was another side as well, one whose eyes lingered a little bit too long on her bare legs every night and whose gaze made her feel like a prize to be won.

Then there was this side, the one that held her late into the night despite how tired he was, and the one that whispered comforts into her ear when she cried. This one's hands were gentle despite the rough calluses on his palms, and his chest was warm and smelled of soap. At first she didn't know what to call this side, for she had never experienced or seen such a side in a man ever before. Maybe this was the father side of him, or the husband.

"Murtagh?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but the sound carried up from her mouth and twisted around his neck to his ear. The thoughts in her head were still rushing around frantically, but thankfully the fear had ebbed from her mind.

"Yes?" He breathed out his answer, not even noticing how soft his own voice was in response to hers. How could he growl at the girl when she was so raw already?

"Will you hold me?" It was the same thing she had asked him some hours before when they had first gotten into bed. He had refused her then, but he couldn't now.

"Whenever you ask me to," her arms squeezed a little tighter around his middle, a silent, grateful gesture. Murtagh closed his eyes, sending more soothing feelings into her mind, and his hand caressed the back of her head with surprising gentleness. He rolled off her silently but still face her, placing his other arm at the back of her neck before moving his free on to wrap around her waist and hug the small of her back. With his eyes closed he couldn't see hers gleaming in the faint light from the windows, but Caislyn watched the moonlight cup the side of his face and highlight is hair.

"Thank you," she whispered again, trying not to wake him.

"Just go to sleep girl," there was no malice in his words, just exhaustion. Caislyn smiled at him and tucked a little closer, falling asleep to the soft feeling of his hands stroking her back and her head.

* * *

That night could be considered a breaking point in Murtagh's… relationship with the girl. It was the next day they sat a little closer to each other at the breakfast table, but Caislyn didn't point it out to him. During physical training he still growled and barked at her, but he nodded his approval more than he used to, even sparing her a few praising words. She tried not to use his mind to understand, but once or twice she found herself wandering around in his thoughts. It was interesting to see how different everything in his head was compared to her own. There was so much red and gray there, where her mind was slowly being splashed with white as she and Aave grew closer.

Of course, the white dragon was currently growing to the size of a small house and knocked out cold, so that left Caislyn alone with the Red Rider more often than not. One morning she sat in a chair in the library, staring down at the scroll before her, brow furrowed with concentration.

Feeling him approach, she looked up and found Murtagh next to her, one hand on the table and the other on her back. As if realizing what he was doing, he dropped his hand from in between her shoulder blade to the back of her wooden chair, training his eyes onto the scroll. "Spells?" he asked, and she quickly nodded, distracted by how warm had blossomed in her chest moments before. He spared her glance and she realized she must look stupid with her wide eyes and open mouth.

"Oh, um, it creates light by drawing energy from the air instead of the body. I can't seem to…" She trailed off when light bloomed from between Murtagh's fingers. She stared, wondering how he had done that without her noticing him barking the spell like he usually did. "How did you do that?"

For once, Murtagh smiled down at her. "Take it."

"But the magic will dissipate because I do not have as much power as you do."

"When will you learn, girl? My power **is** yours**, **and should you need it, you will have it." He promptly handed her the shimmering ball of light, placing it into her open hands. The light, tinted red in his hands, burned a bright white as soon as she was the one powering it. Murtagh stared. "I think you are better than you realize."

Caislyn looked away from the magic between her hands and met his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The reason this spell was so difficult was because it's not the level you should be trying right now. The fact that you can hold that without it blowing us to pieces says something."

"Thank y- wait, you gave this to me knowing it could very well kill us?" Murtagh shrugged.

"It's not a bad way to die…" She kicked at his shins, letting the magic fall away, but Murtagh just chuckled. "But as I was saying, you're more advanced than you think you are."

"What do you mean?" Murtagh gave her an exasperated look and she grinned back at him.

"Seven hells girl, do you want me to spell it out to you? Eragon nearly killed himself the first time he used magic, and while I certainly didn't die, it took me months before I could produce just a spark." Caislyn looked down at her hands, hearing him shift so he was half standing and half sitting on the table before her. His arms crossed over his chest, and when she looked up again Murtagh looked a bit more menacing than he had minutes before. "Get it?"

"I suppose…" She didn't see him roll his eyes, but suddenly he grasped her hand in his and she felt a transfer of energy, vibrations starting up and down her arm. "Does this mean we make pink?" It sounded childish and he wanted to scoff, but when she looked up with those eyes he just stared.

"Yeah, I guess we do."

* * *

Eragon mounted Saphira, waiting for the others to climb onto their own dragons as well. The King said goodbye to Trianna in his usual dramatic fashion before leaping onto Shruikan's back and strapping himself in. They nodded to each other before turning their attention to Murtagh who was helping Caislyn into Thorn's saddle like always. Aave was currently still asleep, even after six days, but Shruikan told them she would be coming about shortly. As a result, Caislyn still rode in front of Murtagh atop Thorn.

It was strange, Eragon mused, that two individuals could go hot and cold constantly. More often than not Murtagh was growling at the girl, and Caislyn snapped right back. Then there were moments like this when the two linked riders touched each other with a certain level of… gentleness.

He didn't understand their relationship, at all really, but even Eragon could see how Murtagh led her along by her hand instead of her elbow, and how Caislyn never passed up the opportunity to muss up the Red Rider's hair whenever she was standing and he was not. They sat next to each other at meals, and even with their bickering there was an underlying playful banter to be heard.

More often than not, nowadays, they could be found together. Sometimes they even willingly spent time together. Just the day before he walked into the library to find a scroll Galbatorix requested and found them sitting across from each other reading their own scrolls. Upon closer inspection, however, Eragon caught a glimpse of Caislyn's foot tracing a line up and down his brother's leg, shoes forgotten on the floor.

Hell, he had even caught them relaxing together. He didn't even know how Murtagh had sat through it without realizing, or what possessed him to ignore if he had taken notice, but when Eragon had walked through one of the many dens in the palace on his way to the kitchen, he had seen Murtagh sitting reading a book of some kind, with Caislyn's legs across his lap. The white rider herself was sound asleep, it seemed, but she had a smile on her face from the way Murtagh absently rubbed a hand over her knee.

Flabbergasted, Eragon had gone on his way, but the incident had remained in his head until he had brought up with the King. _"Eragon," _the King had said, _"for the first time in their lives they both have someone who they can trust and rely on without worry of deceit. They share thoughts, feelings, dreams and fears. Of course they will spend an increasing amount of time together. It is one of the reasons I paired them together." _And it seemed to be working out, so Eragon hadn't said a word about it since then. Caislyn and Murtagh still fought, but very rarely was it over anything but petty things. He had even heard them arguing about who had to read aloud the practice scrolls one day. In hindsight, Eragon agreed with Murtagh on the matter even though his brother had lost, but that wasn't the point.

_Eragon, just be happy for them. _Only Saphira knew the real reason behind Eragon's interest in their relationship.

_Why does Murtagh get to spend so much time with the woman he loves and not I?_

_Because you are stronger than he is, young one, you know that. _Eragon accepted this reasoning with a sigh, only then noticing that Shruikan was turning and leading the two other dragons into the air. It was not lost him, however, that Murtagh's arm was around Caislyn's waist instead of holding onto the saddle horn.

* * *

"Girl, what are you trying to pull?" Murtagh was barking again, startling Caislyn from cleaning off her knives. Surprisingly, this was the first time she had seen him that day and she was already getting ready for bed. Looking from her work and to where he slammed the door behind him, her eyes displayed her confusion.

"What do you mean?" Murtagh growled in warning, having no patience for her dumbstruck act.

"You've been broadcasting your thoughts to me all day! Do you have any idea how hard it was to concentrate at the meeting with the Northern lords with your constant prattling in the back of my skull?!" Caislyn frowned back at him.

"What am I supposed to do about it? You're the one that can put up walls around his mind, why didn't you?" Murtagh glared down at her and stalked forward.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to guard your own thoughts? I don't want the constant strain of a wall just because you can't seem to shut up!"

Caislyn set down her knives and tucked them away, not wanting a repeat of the earlier incident when she put a dagger in his shoulder. "No, no one ever taught me." Within seconds, it was as if the soldier side of Murtagh melted away. He sighed and sat next to her, falling back and closing his eyes.

"I thought Galbatorix was going to show you, it's pretty important."

"He never found the time and apparently forgot, but he mentioned something about you…" Murtagh groaned and covered his face with his hands, rubbing furiously as if it would take away the pressure in his skull.

"Dammit old man…" With that, he sat up and turned towards her slightly, "turn towards me." She scooted back on the bed and tucked her legs beneath her, facing him. "I'm going to teach you how to shield your mind."

Caislyn simply nodded and followed along with what he told her to do. She grew frustrated, however, when he was able to break through her walls no matter how much force she put behind them. "I thought you were bad with magic?!"

Murtagh shrugged but explained. "I am, spells are difficult for me and take far longer for me to practice and understand than they should, especially compared to how fast you conquer them, but mental magic is a bit different."

"What makes your shields so strong?"

"When you've got a lot to hide, you try harder." Caislyn reached out to his face when his eyes looked down at the mattress, but settled on the junction of his neck and shoulder instead.

"So when Galbatorix asked you to connect your mind with mine…"

"It was like asking me to share what I worked so hard to guard…" Caislyn met his eyes, her own glistening with new tears. She started so say she was sorry for intruding, that she had no idea how much she had interrupted his life when it had happened. The words had barely started on her tongue, ghosting through her mind, when Murtagh continued. "But now, even though you've only been here for a little while…I don't mind… having you _around_, I mean."

Caislyn choked on the words she was going to say, forgetting all about the apology she had been formulating. Abruptly, she launched at him and caught him in a hug. "And I don't mind having you _around _either."

"I mean sure, you can be a bit of a brat sometimes, and you're still annoying as hell-" she elbowed him playfully, earning a chuckle from deep in his chest. It was a marvelous sound with her so close, close enough to feel it through her arms and their minds. "But… you aren't all that bad."

Caislyn giggled, knowing as soon as they were back to their normal routines he would be back to yelling at her, insulting her, and growling constantly, but she didn't mind. "You're an insufferable grump and you've got a tongue that would give even an old sailor a run for his money… but you aren't all that bad either."

Surprising him, Caislyn gave him a small kiss to the cheek as she pulled away from him and went to put her knives away. He moved off the bed as well, but that was only to pull of his boots and socks, the tug the shirt off his back before trudging off to bathe. When Murtagh returned, Caislyn was snug under the covers with the blankets up to her chin. He crawled in next to her with a sigh, head and body aching from getting up so early and spending the whole day dealing with politicians.

Caislyn opened her eyes to peek at him, red hair tousled around her neck and flowing over the crisp white pillows. Murtagh turned his head to look at her, making her giggle when he yawned. The promise to hold her after her nightmares was silently offered up like every night, but this time Caislyn tugged him closer.

"I don't snu-"

"I know." But she snuggled him anyways, and he closed his eyes in defeat, too tired to object.

* * *

Saphira crooned as soon as she landed in the tower, casting her eyes over the cushion on in the corner and the closed windows that let in the moons light. Rain tapped against the roof, barely more than a sprinkle, and produced a soft drumming sound throughout the room. Thankfully, the great doors that led to the landing ledge could easily be closed with a flick of her paw so no rain would crawl in and keep her cold throughout the night.

Being the only dragon staying at the manor, Saphira had taken the top most lair in the tower and Eragon helped her make it homier. Once in a while Rhonny came up to chat with her a while or to spend time with both her and her eggs.

This time when the sandy haired woman came up the stairs, she carried something precious to Saphira. Her eggs were the only thing that the dragon loved as much as Eragon, and if forced to choose she would never be able to make a decision. _Well, that's a lie. _She could trust Shruikan to raise the two hatchlings well if she ever had to leave them. The idea pained her, so as soon as Rhonny popped her head through the door that led to the stairs, Saphira began to purr.

Feeling the thrumming energy of her young, she took the time to lie down on the cushion and make herself comfortable for the night before nodding to Rhonny. The dwarf beamed a smile and undid the satchels buckle, carefully placing the two eggs side by side in their mother's paws. Once Rhonny stepped back, still smiling, Saphira pulled them closer and purred louder, tongue bathing the outsides of their hard shells.

Rhonny giggled at the sight of her tongue and ducked away, "goodnight Saphira," her voice was but a whisper as she closed the door behind her.

After telling her daughters all about their new aunt Aave, Saphira came upon a startling idea: if Aave and Thorn were together as a mated pair, then who would there be for her daughters? Shruikan? She shied away from the idea, both because of the age gap and… and… a terrible burn started in the back of her throat and Saphira began to growl. _No, either of my daughters will end up with the King's dragon. _The idea unsettled her more than it should have, no offense intended to Shruikan, of course.

Deciding to put her mind at ease, she asked. It wasn't a terribly long distance and she was well acquainted with Shruikan's mind, so the tax was bearable. _Well, blue one, with the recent fluctuation in female dragons, I will be focusing on hatching the male orange egg, as he is closest to being ready. _

_And the others?_

_Some will be waiting for the wild dragon spell Galbatorix invented, but other riders are needed, if that is what you are wondering. The spell__ takes away the rider the babies inside are waiting for and makes them free to hatch when they'd like to like wild dragons. They will grow up looking like wild dragons: smaller than their rider counterparts and with fewer horns, less vibrant hides and less viscous nature. _

_Who will raise them? _It went without saying that Saphira's first responsibility would be to her own eggs, so she wondered who would be raising their own hatchlings. Despite herself, Saphira nursed the idea of asking Shruikan to be a part of the young hatchlings lives. She already knew he would want to train and teach them when they were older, but she wanted him to do… more than that. They needed a father figure, didn't they? And after all, one of them was his.

_At first, only us. Thorn and Aave will not be having eggs of their own at first, so we will instead start raising the waiting hatchlings. Then, when they mature, we will release them into the world in groups of two or three mated pairs as nature demands. _

Saphira was now very curious. _How many riders will we have? _

_A few dozen maybe. Galbatorix and I have no thought over specifics. The real focus will be the eggs being raised in a wild as possible environment so future generations will bloom. And as pairs mature and are ready to start families, we will ask if they will raise some of the other waiting eggs instead of having their own… Do you think we ask too much? _He was asking her because she was a mother, and she would have some idea of what future mothers might think of the idea.

_No, I accepted an egg from you without putting up a fight; I predict other mothers will not mind waiting a few years to raise adopted hatchlings… How long does it take, anyways?_

_On average, it is two years before dragons can hunt well enough to sustain themselves and establish a territory. It is another two before they find a mate and start their own families. _

_Thank you, Shruikan. _Though he could not see it, she bowed her head.

_Anytime, blue. _Though she could not feel it, there was a certain longing in his mind when she closed the link between them. Shruikan sighed, once again alone on his cushion and alone in his heart.

* * *

"Eragon?" Rhonny's voice called from her bedroom across the hall. Eragon sat up just as she walked in and his eyes trailed down to her bare legs on accident. When she giggled at the look on his face, he remembered she had said something to him.

"Hmm-what?" Rhonny slid into the bed next to him, stalling his brain yet again. She was smiling, but something was bugging her, he could tell. "What is it?"

"Are we really going to get married?" His eyes widened.

"Of course!" Then he realized what she might be implying. "Do you still want to?"

"Yes… do you?"

"I'll always want to marry you. Even after I'm married to you I'll want to marry you!" She giggled at him and promptly curled up against his side, easing him back down to the mattress. Her hand lay on his chest and his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tracing small circles into the skin of her arm.

"There is one thing we have to do before we marry."

"Win the war?" He always figured she'd want to wait until it was all done and over with, even if it meant a few years. He was okay with waiting as long as he had her by his side every step of the way.

"Well that… but… we have to ask my father." Eragon's heart stopped beating for a second or two before he remembered how to breathe and sucked a lungful of air through his lips. Rhonny was laying down her side, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

"What do you mean?" And here he had forgotten all about the family she had run away from. In the back of his mind he may or may not have hoped he wouldn't have to meet her father and risk making a bad impression. Her old man could very well take her away from him if Eragon was deemed unaccepted by her cultures standards. It was right then Eragon realized he knew next to nothing about her family except the snippets she told him from time to time.

"I'd like to see my dad again before spending the rest of my life halfway across the country from him." Eragon's heart began to sink at the apparent sadness in her voice. How could he have forgotten she might miss her family as much as he did? He had taken her away from them; after all, she had probably meant to return after just a day or two. "To show them I'm not dead and such… it's been…"

"A long time…" He finished for her, his throat suddenly dry like he hadn't drank anything for days.

As if sensing his growing apprehension, Rhonny and touched his face, bringing his distant eyes back to hers. "Eragon, I do not plan to stay. I will follow you wherever you go, as long as you ask it of me."

"I'm just… afraid they will try to take you away from me. I'm not exactly an honorary dwarf anymore." Rhonny gave him a small smile.

"I am from the Durgrimst Fanghur clan. We are somewhat small, but we like dragons more than the other clans because of the Fanghur. My people will like you, and they will like Saphira as well. I'm sure Havard will find no reason to annul the proposal."

"And if he does?" Rhonny's smile grew a bit.

"I've already run away with you once, why not again? Forbidden love is… alluring." The hand on his chest began to move. Her nails ran across the skin of his torso and Eragon closed his eyes at the feeling, breathing out a laugh through his nose.

"Alright, we will go."

"I can wait until the war is over, Eragon," he peeked at her with one eye and saw her eyes dancing with light.

"I would steal away from this war if it meant keeping you." That earned him a solid kiss to his lips.

"That's what I wanted to hear." Abruptly, Rhonny rolled over him and sat on his hips, grinning down. Eragon placed his hands on her waist and squeezed experimentally. Rhonny giggled and leaned forward to kiss him again.

* * *

More on Murtagh and Caislyn, with some bits of the others too. Nothing much else to say 8I Hope you guys are still enjoying the story!

**Next Update: The next chapter is already in the works, and since it is still the weekend for me, I might start to get a head of schedule with these things :D  
**


	60. Duty vs Love

**Reviews are appreciated, my lovelies. **

**ALL THE LINEBREAKS! :D**

* * *

Murtagh grabbed a hunk of bread and rolled his eyes, trying to block out his brothers constant chatter. He could sense Caislyn's delight in the conversation but it did nothing to quell his urge to shut the other rider up. Along with some grapes (a secret favourite of his), Murtagh broke apart a piece of cheese and leaned back in his chair, eating quietly as he ignored their continuous prattling and focused on the tune stuck in his head since the night before.

Caislyn had a pleasant dream so he hadn't had to wake her up and hold her. This time she had been dancing to some song as her own people sang and strummed on foreign instruments. Like many times before, he recognized it as a memory instead of her imagination.

Cursing the girl and her apparent ease with every damn situation she got herself stuck in, Murtagh grumbled and vowed never to dance with anyone if he could help it. Galbatorix had yet to ask him to play nice with any high born daughters and like Murtagh had predicted, Eragon had quickly become a favourite amongst the nobles and their families. The only problem with that scenario was Eragon had absolutely no idea how to talk politics. _Or maybe that's where his charm comes from. _

Murtagh was still musing when he felt a surge of energy coming from Caislyn's mind. His head snapped up and he locked eyes with her, watching her face brighten and her spring to her feet. "Aave's awake!" The girl was immediately headed towards the door and careening towards the giant room where Aave had been laid down for the growth spell.

Murtagh sighed and tossed his food back onto his plate before following after her, knowing she was undoubtedly running instead of walking in a dignified manner. He turned back to Eragon, who had started to follow as well, "Fetch the King. Pull him out of whatever meeting you have to." His young brother nodded and soon Murtagh ditched any pretense of what he was doing, charging down the halls after the girl with flaming red hair.

_Seven hells girl, _his voice in her mind prompted Caislyn to stop atop the staircase and let him catch up. To her delight, the Red Rider seemed out of breath for few seconds before he regained his bearings. "If we barge in there like the castle's ablaze you'll scare her half to death. Greet her in her mind first; see if she has a headache or anything like that. **Then **we can kick open the door and you can hug her or whatever girls do." Caislyn nodded in understanding and he felt the brush of her consciousness as she reached out for her dragon.

_I am awake, but groggy. Please, do come in. _Aave voice sounded the same but her presence in their minds was stronger than before, feeling more like a dragon grown than a small hatchling. Caislyn's face lit up like a child receiving a present and Murtagh had to tear his eyes away, distracting himself by beating her to the door and holding it open for her. She graced him with a beaming smile but was skirting into the room before he could react, leaving him to either stand there in the hallway like an idiot or duck through the doorway as well.

Aave had grown, that was for damn sure. The chosen room was large enough to hold a ball purely so Thorn could lie next to her when he wanted. Right then, the red dragon was helping the smaller white to her feet, head nestled in the white scales of her neck. Murtagh nearly snorted at his dragon's submissive behavior but the bliss overflowing from Thorn's mind stopped him.

Her new size was truly impressive and Murtagh gave brownie points to the King for such a spell. He remembered Thorn suffering through it because the King could not afford to put the red dragon to sleep for so long in the middle of the war, so a slight jealously trickled into his mind. Caislyn's thrumming happiness quelled any thoughts of ruining the moment with a few choice words, so Murtagh merely stood by the door and watched the girl hug and climb all over the grown dragon like she was but a child.

The smile that started on his face disappeared the minute he heard footsteps from down the hall approaching fast. On instinct his hand flew to his sword, but it was Galbatorix who arrived in the doorway with Eragon on his heels.

"Ahh good good, no complications as far as I can see," the King was back to his "father voice" with his emotions plain to see just behind his words. He stepped towards the white female as she rose to her feet and tested out her legs, leaning heavily on Thorn for support. Eragon stood next to Murtagh, sensing the dragons might become nervous being crowded in such a moment of weakness.

_I feel fine, my King; strong and ready, _Aave's voice rang out for all of them to hear, as strong as she appeared. Only Caislyn felt the internal struggle of the white as she tried to appear healthy and battle ready. The girl urged her dragon to lie back down and give up the act, but Aave refused to display such weakness.

Murtagh felt the whole ordeal through Caislyn's mind and immediately gave the dragon some respect; he could sympathize with what she was going through. To help, he joined Thorn in pouring power and strength into Aave's mind as discreetly as he could. Caislyn caught his eyes for a split second and he knew she felt him. _Damn._On her face the beginnings of a smile showed.

"Of course, Aave, I have no doubts you shall be tearing through your foes in no time. However, until then, I think it would be wise to rest and not test your newfound abilities. Shruikan will see to you as soon as he is able." It was not a suggestion. Galbatorix was good at giving out orders in disguise of advice. Like when he _advised _Murtagh to suck it up and deal with Caislyn instead of drowning his new sorrows in alcohol.

"Does this mean we will be taking another flight over Uru Baen being as Aave can hold Caislyn on her back?" Eragon's question was a good one and Galbatorix considered it, hands clasped behind his back.

Once again Murtagh caught Caislyn's eyes and they widened the connection between their minds to hear each other clearly. Reasons like _I don't think I can ride in a saddle alone _and _I don't think you can either _swirled with _you fit just fine in Thorn's saddle with me _and _what if I like riding with you? _Other thoughts snuck by their safety nets, revealing their true worries and feelings: _they're trying to separate us- I like her more than she knows- but I feel safer with him than anyone- what if they send us away from each other- I won't let Galbatorix take her from me- wasn't the plan for us to marry and live our lives together? _They just listened to each other think while Galbatorix spoke about one thing or another.

They tuned back in to the conversation just as Galbatorix finalized his decision, "no I think it would be wise to let Aave get a feel for her new body before pushing her into the sky. Eragon, tell Shruikan and Saphira to make training Aave their first priority." When the King looked to Eragon, it went unsaid that Saphira's eggs went first. Eragon nodded and ducked out of the room with an informal but polite goodbye to Aave and the others.

"Now, Thorn I entrust you with the task of making sure Aave is fed and takes it easy, understood?" Aave snorted smoke at the notion of being treated like a child still but Galbatorix would have none of that. His gaze hardened into a stern expression. "Your safety is of the utmost importance to us, as is your rider's. Despite your powerful heritage and innate abilities, you are still the weakness members of the Rider's ranks and therefor will be treated carefully. I do not wish to upset you, but if it means keeping you safe until you can defend yourself properly to all our enemies, then so be it." Aave lowered her gaze and a wordless apology was exchanged from and in between both parties.

It was then Galbatorix turned his attention to Murtagh, "the Northern Lords request your presence at another meeting, keep your afternoon open," he glanced at Caislyn and an idea popped into his head. "In fact, bring Caislyn with you; she needs to learn how to conduct a council. Make sure she is dressed appropriately and is prepared for what they will say and think of her presence."

Murtagh sighed, "Yes, my King, but what of the dragons? Shall they be attending with us?" His gaze stayed stubbornly pinned on Galbatorix's despite how much he wished to cast another glance at Caislyn and see her face. Instead he sent this feeling into her mind and made it known.

"Maybe once Aave is settled in and fully rested, but for today I want Thorn to show her around the castle then meet up with Shruikan. He will take you both out to the fields and train you. Understood?" There was a collective bow as Galbatorix exited the room, silence stretching out after the Red and White Riders were left alone with their dragons.

_Does he mean to make a spectacle of us? _Murtagh gave her a look, finally letting his hand fall from the hilt of his sword and walking over to her to stand next to Thorn, reaching up to scratch the dragon under his chin.

_Of course he is. A new rider, a new dragon, and a pretty one at that, _He didn't clarify whether he meant Caislyn was pretty or Aave, but Caislyn knew better than to ask. He continued after a moment, _he told me in passing that he was thinking of sending us north and showing the people most affected by the war with the elves that their kingdom has sent help. _

_Does this mean we will be travelling together? _Murtagh paused, his fingers halting their movements.

_I suppose it does, _he may have stopped purposely sending his thoughts to her, but his train of conscience continued for him, _Aave will be trained and saddle by then, there will be no reason for us to ride so close to each other. _

_That's too bad, it gets cold with all the wind and he's warm. _One of the downsides of the connection (and an upside of it as well, in the right situation) was neither had to chance to edit and sift through their thoughts before the other had the chance to hear them.

Scowling, Murtagh shook his head at all the thoughts of _body heat- she's soft when she's pressed against me- riding with her isn't bad- should do it more often. _His mind was betraying him, nay, his hormones were. Growling, he dropped his hand from Thorn's scales and threw up his walls again. "Come on, we have to ready you for the court."

Caislyn placed a kiss to Aave's muzzle, earning a soft purr, and skipped to his side as just as he made it to the door. "Do you think they will like me?" She asked after a few minutes when they were well on their way to their chambers.

He didn't notice how soft her voice had become so he growled like usual, "what does it matter if they like you? They're fucking Lords, their opinions don't matter." At a strange feeling entering, he risked a glance back at her. _Fuck, _he cursed himself and his harsh words, because while opinions may not matter to him for the most part,** they mattered to her**. Going from a whore to a Lady meant everyone in the castle was both jealous and suspicious.

He sighed and tried to salvage the situation, "of course they will like you, girl." She looked up at him as if hoping he would explain. He swallowed thickly, "if you can get the Red Rider to put up with you, you can deal with some little Lords, alright?" He ushered her ahead towards their chambers. "Now go and bathe so I can scare some servants into helping you find something to wear." He cringed, knowing he would have to change into something a little less functional and a little more suitable for a Rider to wear.

In retrospect, it was worth it when he caught the blush on Caislyn's face when the Lords first laid eyes on her. _Sometimes,_ he thought, _dressing up can be a good thing._

* * *

Aave followed Thorn out of the room a few minutes after their rider's left. She was a bit wobbly on her feet and needed his constant presence to save her from falling on her face. It would not be fitting for the newest dragon of their ranks to be staggering around and falling against the walls.

Thorn helped her along gladly, happy to have her out of her comatose. Her mind was near his thanks to Caislyn's connection with Murtagh, but secretly the red dragon hoped to make the connection stronger. He was looking forward to spending a lot more time with her too, even if it was constant flight on their way to wherever Galbatorix needed them.

Determined to adapt and continue with her life, Aave set about regaining the strength to her limbs and stretching out her newly grown wings, marveling at their size. Her build was much like Shruikan's, not too lithe like Saphira's, but not too bulky like Thorn. She was nestled nicely into the middle and that meant Shruikan would be showing her many maneuvers only their type could achieve. Saphira would be both her master and her fellow student, as the blue dragon still had much to learn yet was racing through every exercise Shruikan could throw at her.

_Will you be aiding in my training as well? _Aave asked Thorn, turning her head a bit to look at him. He was a bit smaller than she, something she sensed he wasn't exactly pleased about, but size didn't matter to her. If her King commanded she mate with this male, she would. This mentality would only be reaffirmed after she watched Thorn fight.

_I do not think so. I believe Shruikan means to focus you on aerial maneuvers over actual combat skills. However, should you want to learn after your normal classes I would be happy to assist you. _He motioned toward a turn and she followed his lead, padding beside him down another hallway.

Aave bobbed her head in response, _I would like that very much. _Thorn swung his head to look at her and flashed his teeth in a friendly gesture. Aave swung her own neck over and touched her forehead to his jaw. After a few minutes of silence, Aave spoke up again. _Do you know what the King has planned for us?_

_He means to send us north to aide in the effort against the Elves, just as you requested, _Thorn answered, opening a door carefully with his claws. Sunlight rained down onto them, covering them in a blanket of new warmth.

_He means for us to mate. _Thorn's wings fluttered before he could help it, obviously nervous at her words. He developed a wide eyed, unsure expression.

_I did not- I hadn't-… _He turned his eyes anywhere but her, not liking the subject change. _They had only mentioned it in passing. _

_It is our duty. _Suddenly he locked eyes with her, emotions flaring.

_Do you love me? _

_I do not._

_Then you're right, it is nothing more than our duty. _He flared his wings and took flight, leading her away from the castle.

A soft sadness filled them both and Aave sought to correct the mistake she had made. _I do not love you… but I want to. _They could very well feed off their rider's growing feelings for each other and live as happy mates, and at this thought Thorn glanced back at her.

_We will be entrusted with two hatchlings as soon as the war is over, _he told her, knowing she understood he meant waiting hatchlings like she had been. _I look forward to raising a family with you, _Thorn admitted, spotting Shruikan and Saphira waiting for them in the middle of a windswept field, grasses dancing in the wind from their wings.

_I do as well, _Aave offered, and only knew Thorn received this message by the way he looked back at her as she landed.

Shruikan, oblivious to the heavy conversation the two of them had been having, assisted her on her touchdown. _I trust you know Saphira and I will be your teachers today? _Aave bowed her head to the both of them in respect.

_Of course, it is an honor. _Saphira's face heated up, a very human manifestation that Aave found peculiar on a dragon's face. Shruikan didn't seem to find his helper's embarrassment out of the ordinary, so Aave turned her attention away from the blue dragon's face.

_Of course it is, now let's get started. _

Saphira snorted at Shruikan's words, wondering how he could be so pompous in front of their student. He set about showing Aave the proper wing movements for their type, valuing an equal amount of speed and upward thrust. It occurred to Saphira how slight her body was compared to Aave's, something she always though was just because she never had another female to match herself to.

Saphira was also still the smallest of them, as Aave was bigger than Thorn, who was slightly larger than her. Saphira didn't like this at all. Not that dragons cared about body size too much, but she didn't want to be so small especially when Shruikan was so huge. It made her feel… jealous. Why? She liked to think it was because being the smallest meant she was to be the weakest link once Aave was trained, but it was something else.

As he walked around telling them all about the individual muscles in their wings that needed to be properly stretched and massaged before and after long, strenuous flights, Saphira watched Shruikan move. He was nearly twice her size, meaning she could sit down underneath his belly comfortably. Of course, they had never had to do that for any reason but it was… nice to know they could?

Okay so maybe being small was that bad, but Saphira really did not like the idea of being the smallest. It put too much of a different between her and Shruikan, they were supposed to be the teacher together, right? She had never heard of a teacher being littler than her students, and did not want to be the first.

Shruikan must have sensed her growing unease, because when he sent Thorn and Aave up into the air to practice a move, he padded over to her side and brushed his chin along the top of her neck. Saphira looked up at him, staring at the softer scales of on the bottom of his neck. The end of her tail twitched, insecurities falling away. Nope, being small wasn't that bad.

Shruikan butted her once before Thorn and Aave landed again. This time, Shruikan remained standing by her side, tail occasionally touching hers. Had the situation been more private, she might have purred at him. That was a strange notion in itself. When had they become so friendly with each other? The flight lessons every afternoon where she strove to amaze him with her innate abilities in the air, or the hunts spent together in the forest every few days?

Following him into the air so they could demonstrate to Thorn and Aave a move that Shruikan had taught her weeks ago, Saphira listened to his instructions and again tried to impress him, spinning around him and landing a mock blow on the back of his neck like he told her to do. Shruikan nodded his praise and hovered below her, watching with calculating eyes as Thorn and Aave tried to mimic them. '

Then, after skills were taught, they were practiced. Thorn wasn't too good at aerial fighting thanks to his build and Aave was new to it, so it made sense for them to face each other. Shruikan and Saphira landed on the ground, facing away from the sun to avoid its glare and craning their necks up to watch.

After a good two hours of solid combat training, Aave's wing's ache and Thorn is hungry. They set out for the woods at a relaxed pace. Saphira and Shruikan flew around each other, with her taunting him as she literally flew circles around him and carefully avoided his wings. After a while, Shruikan flipped himself over and they twirled around each other. Saphira had no idea what this signified but Shruikan didn't complain or make any snide comments about it, so she reasoned this was usual dragon behavior.

After feeding and flying back to the castle, Saphira landed further down on the steps than Aave and Thorn, who were headed to their beds for a long nap. Shruikan looked back her and made a deep noise, calling her forward. She complied and stood next to him, happily stretching like a cat and yawning like one as well. Shruikan apparently found this amusing.

_After they leave and our days are not filled with training and sleeping, perhaps you would permit me to spend the day with you and your eggs. _Saphira smiled, another expression she picked up from her rider that wasn't natural.

_I'd like that, _she answered, pressing her forehead to his neck and surprising him, _I'd like that a lot._

* * *

Two days later and the Northern nobles were abuzz with news of a new rider and her betrothal to Murtagh. It seemed as if the lands heaved a great sigh of relief. Now the King could not promise the angry Red Rider to one of their daughters and he had no sons to use either. Despite the growing tension in the country as the people wondered about the new rider and their Queen-less King, Galbatorix seemed completely at ease. "Your union will be made public starting next week. We shall give Aave a few days to strengthen her wings and for a saddle to be fitted and made, but after that you two are headed to Dras Leona."

Murtagh leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and Caislyn recognized his "politics face" from the meeting she attending with him. "Why the hell is Dras Leona important to us? They can barely hold their own city; they have nothing to offer us by strengthening their support of our cause."

"Exactly why you will only be staying a week before heading to Teirm and playing nice with the Lords there. Teirm will be your home for a few weeks, and then you will fly to Gilead and stay until further notice."

"You're making us figureheads," Murtagh growled for the both of them.

"I'm reminding the people that the Riders fighting for them are strong and able enough to do so. Caislyn is new and the peasants need to know what she looks like." Murtagh frowned deeper at that.

"I'm guessing you expect her training to continue."

"Of course, this isn't a vacation for either of you too. You'll get that after you're married, should you want it." Caislyn's eyes lit up at the thought and Murtagh had to hold in a groan. "The whole trip will take a little over two months. The plan is to have you both in Gilead in time for the assault on the elves, where I will need you most." It was Murtagh's turn to grin at the idea. "I thought you would like knowing that, Murtagh."

"You know me so well," Murtagh rasped, his mind swirling with thoughts of slaying elves and bringing down their army. Of course, his mind shifted and he tried to image Caislyn right there with him. "She needs armour," he said suddenly, and Galbatorix raised his eyebrows in question. "Caislyn, she hasn't been fitted for any armour."

"I entrust that task to you." Murtagh rolled his eyes but sent his King a bow anyways before ducking out of the room. Caislyn caught up to him in the hall.

"You called me Caislyn…"

* * *

More on Murtagh and Caislyn, with some bits of the others too. Nothing much else to say 8I Hope you guys are still enjoying the story!

**Next Update: The next chapter is already in the works, and since it is still the weekend for me, I might start to get a head of schedule with these things :D  
**


	61. Practice Makes Perfect

**After quite a long wait, updates are back c:**

* * *

Sweat poured down Eragon's brow, jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. The muscles in his neck bulged, arms straining against the pressure. His throat was raw, breath ragged, but he managed to speak, "how much longer?" His whole body was fighting, pushing and pulling against the force of the magic between his curling fingers. Held parallel to his chest, the pulsing orb thrummed and breathed as he did. It mimicked his body's internal workings and taunting him with it as his eyes began to sting, unable to wipe the perspiration away from his face.

Galbatorix watched him with calculating eyes, admiring his handiwork. When the boy had first come to his castle, he couldn't even speak the spell, let alone conjure and control it. It was feral magic, given too much freedom and fighting against its harness. Eragon was currently in control, but they were pushing it.

"Alright, let it go," Eragon did as he was told with a sigh; he dropped his hands and letting the magic disappear into the air. His whole body heaved as if to return his breakfast, but to his credit Eragon composed himself. "Do you understand the purpose of this exercise?"

Eragon rubbed his face with a towel, regaining his breathe so he could answer. He accepted the water offered to him before speaking, "to show me wild magic is dangerous?" He was half-assing it because his brain hadn't really caught up yet. Galbatorix frowned.

"To show you your own magic's will fight to be free no matter how much control you have over it. It does not do to rule through fear, Eragon, believe me on this." Their eyes met and Eragon frowned.

"That was mine?" Utterly lost now, Eragon dropped his gaze to stare down at his hands.

"Yes, your magic is untrained and unruly, as you have noticed. It will do what you tell it to, but it would much rather be free. Sound familiar?"

"It's me," Eragon said with conviction, brow furrowing even deeper. "Why does my magic hate me?"

"Oh it doesn't, but it certainly doesn't love you. You need to build a bond with the magic in your blood or your spells will never work completely."

"How do you build a bond with your own blood?" The thought in itself sounded ludicrous. Galbatorix smiled.

"You play," when Eragon looked up, Galbatorix continued, "go, bathe and redress. Rest, as you are tired. When you awaken later in the day, sit up and draw your magic. Instead of commanding it to do something you would like, ask it what it would like to do and do it for a good while. Your magic is young, like you and Saphira, so don't balk at the idea of doing something childish for it."

Eragon nodded slowly, letting the idea sink in. _Spend an afternoon acting like a kid again? _It sounded fun, in truth, and Eragon smiled. "What about once my magic is sated and the task finished?"

Galbatorix thought for a moment before smile slightly, "join me for dinner, I'm sure we will have much to talk about."

* * *

Eragon stared down at his hands, elbows on his knees. Galbatorix said his magic wanted to be free, like he did.

Eragon wanted nothing more than to return to Carvahall and return to his life as a farmer. Ideally, he would do just that once the war was over. Or maybe someplace closer, as Galbatorix was more likely to let him leave the castle if he was only an hour away instead of a week.

It would be the perfect place for Saphira to raise her hatchlings as well. The manor was just enough out of the way of the capital not to draw attention and rested on a hill above the town. The fields surrounding would be a perfect place to grow crops and train young dragons simultaneously. The woods were thick with trees and held enough game to keep a family of dragons fed.

It all seemed so simple, yet he was tied to the King and the capital until the Elves had fallen. Only after their foes to the North had been fought back would Eragon even consider falling back to his old life. But he was a farmer at heart and so was Rhonny, so he wouldn't give up hope.

But what did the magic in his blood want? Drawing a breath and steadying himself, Eragon called the glowing blue to his fingers and watched it lick at skin like fire. It occurred to him that Murtagh's magic moved more like water, despite the red color, and Caislyn's had taken on the appearance of pure light, tinted yellow. He had only seen Galbatorix's magic a few times with demonstrations but the King's resembled shards, like broken glass that shot through the air. Out of all of these, he found the King's the most terrifying. That seemed fitting.

He had blue fire, it seemed, and this he didn't mind. Fire was a determined element, and while he was forced to accept the destructive attributes, there were some better ones he would dwell on later. After fire came new life, right?

Sighing, Eragon closed his eyes for a moment before staring straight into the glowing blue flame. "What do you want?"

No response. It wasn't like Galbatorix had really explained how to get in touch with his magic… talking to it was the only thing Eragon could think of.

He held the flame for a few more minutes before sighing and letting it go, sick of talking to his fingers. It was silly of him to think it would come easily. Maybe he could just lie to Galbatorix and say all went well and he was well on his way to loving his magic and it loving him back. "What does that even mean?" Eragon asked aloud, frowning. He lay back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, "crazy old man."

* * *

At dinner, Galbatorix and Eragon sat in relative silence until Galbatorix decided to ask about something that had been bugging him. "Do you have any family, Eragon?" Of course, he already knew about Roran, the hammer wielding cousin and Katrina, said cousin's wife. But where were they and were there more?

"A cousin," Eragon said simply, not looking up from his plate. Galbatorix set down his utensils and reached up to rub his face, fingers catching the stubble that had already begun growing.

"Would you like to bring him back safely?"

Eragon's head shot up, "what?"

"Your cousin Roran, do you want him away from the front lines and safe here with you? It can be arranged."

Eragon looked down again. He had been missing his old family a lot. Slenvi and Blodgharm still remained his friends, but only Roran had known him before he was a Rider, Katrina too, and treated him like it. "Of course I would, my King, but how if that possible?"

"With Murtagh and Caislyn heading north, I am free to deal with the Varden and Dwarves as I please. I would be honoured if you joined me on the southern lines."

"Why?"

"It would be the perfect way to make your allegiance to me very clear to the rebels, and in return for your cooperation, you can save your family from harm."

Eragon agreed wholeheartedly but something nagged him. _What about Saphira?_ The blue dragon had eggs to take care of, and being so close to their hatchday would make her reluctant to leave them for more than a few hours at a time, let alone for the weeks or months required of him in the south.

"Saphira will want to join us, but her eggs…" He trailed off, hoping the King will understand.

Galbatorix met his gaze, "are very close to hatching. It would be dangerous for her to leave them in such a state, especially with no Dragon Masters to take care of them should they hatch while she is gone."

"Which means we have to split up," Eragon announced, wondering how well this news would go over with the blue dragon. _Not well, not well at all._

* * *

The second day of flight Aave was too tired to go on without a bit of rest. The Rider's scoped out a good place to make camp for the night and landed. Murtagh unsaddled Thorn while Caislyn went into his head to find a good relaxation spell for her aching dragon. This intrusion of privacy did not faze him because Caislyn stayed in appropriate areas of his mind.

When a fire was made and their mats were nicely rolled out on the ground on opposite sides, Murtagh unstrapped his sword and dropped it on the ground. The tang of the metal grabbed Caislyn's attention after it made her jump; she looked up at him from her seat on her bedroll. She frowned, "what are you doing?"

"Seeing if you're any good with those small knives of yours," he replied, motioning for her to come closer with two fingers of his right hand. Caislyn glared at him but stood up, dusting herself off casually before using the unsuspecting motion to fling a dagger at him. The Red Rider dodged just in time.

The first lasted no time at all, especially since Caislyn only carried a dozen knives at a time and Murtagh easily out maneuvered her. When she was all out of knives and he had only suffered a few shallow cuts, he came after her full force. She yelped and tried her best to block his hits but after only a few minutes he had won and she was pinned with her arms behind her back.

"You need practice," he said, dropping her hands and letting her fall to the ground gracelessly. She rolled onto her back and huffed, blowing stray hairs out of her face. He stared down at her, looking quite composed and unperturbed.

"I know that!" She snarled at him, and she could have sworn she saw his eyes brighten, as if he was about to smile. Murtagh moved from above her to his bedroll, sinking down onto the mat and raising his arms to begin healing the small wounds she gave him, just in case. Too many men die of fever and infection from shallow wounds, he wasn't about to risk anything.

Caislyn watched him work, sneaking glances as she walked around picking up her knives to capture the tranquil expression on his face. He was concentrating, that much was obvious. She sat down on her own mat, suddenly wanting to ask him numerous questions. "How long have you been a rider?"

Murtagh paused, ceasing the healing spell he was using, and looked over at her. Their eyes met, and through their link she felt him consider his answer carefully as if there was something to hide.

"Not long at all…" He answered yet Caislyn felt there was something more.

"But..?" He paused before answering.

"But… I've been a soldier my whole life."

Caislyn perked up a bit, being able to relate to life in war, "oh really? What was your life like before the Rider's then? Were you just a regular soldier or did the King already favour you?"

His consciousness surged against hers, obviously distraught by her questions. "I am not one to share," he reminded her, going back to what he was doing before. "And that goes for sharing my past."

Frowning, "you know more about me than I know about you," Caislyn claimed, "and that isn't fair."

Murtagh simply looked over at her again, his face neutral. "I want to keep it that way."

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**Next Update: Uhh...**


	62. Not Without Thorns

**Can you believe it's already March? My teachers are already beginning to talk of Finals! My goodness. **

**Have a chapter, with a bit of action for once xD**

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The plan was simple: take back Feinster.

The city was currently under Varden control and rebel forces occupied the city by the thousands. The citizens from the surrounding land and the city itself were rumored to be treated fairly, but everyone doubted the rebel hospitality. The civilians they kept under guard were loyal to the Empire, and therefore, enemies to the rebel cause.

Galbatorix was tickled by the whispers of civilians, mostly farmers and menial workers, revolting in certain areas of the city. It seemed they were determined to free their families, even if it meant risking certain death. These stories only fueled the Imperial soldier's passions and the King was perfectly okay with that.

Imperial forces met their King just outside the city just a few days after the massive army crossed the Jiet River. The King had rode from the capital on Shruikan's back and taken Eragon with him. The boy was missing his dragon, who stayed behind with Rhonny to watch over her eggs, but Eragon was eager to save Roran and Katrina if he could, or at least gather some information on his whereabouts.

Eragon stared at the city walls, wondering how they were going to manage to take it back in the time Galbatorix proposed. He was nervous, and it was obvious. He was out of his element with Saphira with him, and he desperately needed her support. _What if Rohan doesn't want to come with me? What if Rohan has left to rebuild Carvahall already? What if… Rohan is dead?_

"Eragon," Galbatorix called, and Eragon looked over to see his King approaching, sword strapped to his hip.

Eragon bowed his head respectfully once Galbatorix stood at his side, "my King."

Galbatorix examined the city walls with him. "I have a gift for you, Eragon." At the excitedly curious expression Eragon gave him, the King's lips turned up at the corners. "Come, let me show you."

Galbatorix turned on his heels and led Eragon away, trailing the through the camp to where the Blue Rider's tent was set up already. They wouldn't be outside the city walls for long, but both Rider tents were set up anyways. Galbatorix's lodgings doubled as the meeting tent, with maps hanging from the walls and tables directly in the middle for generals to sit.

Stepping inside, Galbatorix held the tent flap open for Eragon, watching for his reaction. Eragon eyes widened and his mouth opened in a very un-Rider like way. In the center of the room was a suit of armour, intricate and expensive, the highest quality the kingdom could offer.

Swirls of blue and grey covered the plates of steel and the chainmail gleamed a silver Eragon had never seen before. The helmet, visor and gauntlets were predominantly grey, which could not be helped. A carving of flames in the center of the chest completed the suit in its entirety.

"This is...mine?" Eragon could not believe it. He stepped forward and ran his fingers over the decorated flame, as if it would disappear when he tried. He turned towards Galbatorix after a moment and the King nodded. "It's beautiful."

The King smiled, "an old friend of mine who has been with me since the beginning. He wanted to make your sword at first, but after he learned you already had one he set about making this. Its taken him until now to do so; he'd be honoured if you wore it."

Eragon examined the metal very closely, "of course I will, just look at it!" He ran his hands over it again, not used to such gifts. "Blue and grey… Are those my colors now?"

Galbatorix nodded, "you fight under my banner, but you are to have your own house. Does that suit you?"

Eragon turned and bowed low, "it would pleasure me greatly, my King." He turned his head and saw Galbatorix nod. "Does… Doesn't Murtagh have something similar to this?"

"Aye, The Red Rider received his own suit and house when he first joined. He wore his armour to the Battle of the Burning Plains, against you, but he has not worn it since. He has it with him now, and will be wearing it again."

"What are Murtagh's colors?"

"Red and Gold. His flag bears a rose."

Eragon didn't know what to say, "a… a rose?"

"Yes, a red rose on a field of yellow. The words he gave me were 'Not Without Thorns.' It is a favourite among the men," Galbatorix smiles, "it is quite apposite, and that is what soldiers need."

Eragon grins, "and anyone who dares besmirch him can merely face him in battle and pay their dues."

"Quite right, my boy, which is why I want you to come up with something clever for your house as well. If you're going to be one of my leading families you'll need a good motto."

"What is your house sigil?"

"A white eagle above crossed swords on a field of purple."

"And your words?"

"It is Us Who Fly." Galbatorix said it in such a way Eragon could only replay the words in his head. He had seen the King's banner many times before, he had even torched a few during his time fighting for the Varden, but he swore had heard those words before. Somewhere…

Suddenly there were two squires standing in the doorway, heads ducked and gazes down. "They will help you dress properly," Galbatorix said, motioning towards the armor. The young helpers quickly moved to Eragon's side and raised his arms to the right height, beginning to fix his clothes and strap on the glimmering silver mail.

The King didn't move, watching as the boys tugged and fastened plates onto Eragon's body until the suit was fitted properly. He gave Eragon a run over with his eyes before nodding appreciatively. "Good, come."

Eragon followed him out of the tent, suddenly feeling very heavy. "Gods, this is-"

"Burdensome, yes, I have some spells for such things. Eventually you will build up your endurance, but for now," Galbatorix summoned his magic to his hand and pointed a fingers to the flame on Eragon's chest, letting the magic flow into the steel. The shard like power followed the intricate carvings, and after a moment Eragon felt much lighter than before.

"Is your armor made of the same steel?" Galbatorix wore a similar suit, obviously made by the same smith, only his was colored purple and black. Eragon guessed the white was bypassed, or simply tinted dark later on, so the King matched Shruikan. "Wait- why is your armour black and your sigil white?"

Galbatorix walked in silence for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. He seemed to be thinking about something. "My first dragon, Jarnunvösk, was white, so my sigil incorporated white as well. After her death I did not have the heart to change it, but once Shruikan bonded with me I refashioned this armour to match him better."

"And why the purple?" Eragon grinned, hoping to lighten the mood, "is it your favourite color?"

Galbatorix smiled, "purple is the color of royalty, as the perfect shade of red and blue combined is fair too expensive for peasants to afford in clothing, and Lords do not dare steal the shade."

Eragon seemed to search the King's face for something. "You know a lot," he said after a pause.

Galbatorix looked out over their forces, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Eragon mimicked him easily, also taking interest in the amassing soldiers. "I am 130 years old, I have learned much in my time, and seen far more. Yet… some things still amaze and befuddle me." Eragon looked over to him, silently questioning, and Galbatorix continued, "how can men, men like these," he gestured to the army before them, "follow orders like this? Do they believe in this cause, or are the simply doing what they are told? Do they question the greater stratagem, or do they plod along like mules?"

"Philosophical questions then, my King."

"Aye. Man is a funny creature, Eragon. I don't think I will ever understand them," he looks out over the army again, "us," he turned his head and caught the younger rider's gaze. "Or myself."

"Understand... no… but," they looked at each other again. "We can try." This time it was Galbatorix who grinned first, and Eragon who grinned in response.

Later in the day when soldiers were in formation, it was time for the generals to follow the agreed upon plan. Galbatorix kept Eragon at his side at all times, having the boy listen in on conversations and follow along as they laid out plans of action. The idea was to take the city as quick as possible and occupy every house and tavern, snuffing out rebel men and making examples of them. In the Keep, Nasuada was rumored to be hiding, but Galbatorix doubted this. After a full day of the Imperial Army assembling outside the fortress walls, the rebel leader was indubitably long gone.

"Do not worry about the upcoming battle," Galbatorix said as he swung up onto Shruikan's back, "wait here until I return, and pay close attention."

The black dragon shook himself and spread his wings, stretching for a moment before running a few steps and launching into the air. He circled the city walls a few times to let Galbatorix adjust in the saddle and double check his wards, then swooped down to hover near the city walls.

The King's voice boomed, announcing the Empire was there to reclaim its own, and proposing the rebel forces surrender. It only took a minute for the captured city to refuse.

Galbatorix smiled, "very well," then Shruikan dove back down to the rallied army to let Galbatorix dismount and head back to Eragon. Up in the battlements archers could be seen readying their bows, and rebel soldiers lined the walls.

"Try not to do too much damage," Galbatorix cautioned, and Shruikan bared his teeth devilishly.

_Oh course, my King. _Then the dragon was off, twisting in the air to wrap his scaled paws into the portcullis. The muscles in the dragon's forearms strained, beginning to shake, and a strange groaning sound was heard. Metal ripped and crumpled, and the metal's groans of pain ceased when the heavy grate gave way.

Once the portcullis was mangled, Shruikan turned his attention to the heavy wooden door. It stood no match and it was a simple swipe of his claws that ended it. Archers fired arrows at him, but to no avail. Galbatorix's wards kept his dragon safe, and the King showed no signs of wearing out from such spells anytime soon. The murder holes above the gate weren't even being used. It seemed the rebel army could not afford, or simply didn't plan ahead well enough, to dump oil or hot tar from the wall and set it aflame.

It occurred to Eragon that the actual army had yet to move and still stood a safe distance from the outer curtain where the archers could not reach them. Once the gate was destroyed the soldiers stormed in after the King's dragon, the din of battle soon filling the evening air. Eragon watched as their force, a solid 5,000 men, swarmed into the outer ward, where peasants made their homes and kept their shops. He also spotted Shruikan slink over the inner curtain and into the inner ward where the Keep stood, and soon flames lit the sky and smoke clouded the air.

Eragon was surprised everything was moving so quickly, and this shock was evident on his face. Galbatorix thought it best to explain, "Feinster does not have the right defenses to withstand a dragon, nor does the Varden have enough spell casters to provide him with a challenge,"he gestured to Shruikan who was ripping through guards and making his way around the city. "It is an easy city to take, but difficult to keep. This is why I did not bother sending reinforcements when I heard Nasuada was marching her army towards it, and also why I was not troubled when the Varden captured it."

The King leads Eragon back to his tent, the camp around them seemingly silent after the army poured itself into Feinster. He gestured to one of the various maps and set his finger on Aroughs, where he is sure Nasuada was currently stationed. "Are you ready to face your old liege lord, Eragon?"

Eragon nodded, of course, but Galbatorix knew otherwise, "You focus on sneaking in and getting your cousin out of there, I'll go after Nasuada, deal?" Eragon nodded again, happy to have the chance to save Roran and Katrina.

"Good, in a week's time we march for Aroughs."

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**Next Update: In a week or so! :D**


	63. Another Time

**A giant scene. Have one.**

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The religion of Dras Leono scared Caislyn to no end. Once they landed in the city she grew wide eyed and began to mutter in her native tongue, praying to her own gods for protection for the demons she saw lacking limbs and appendages. She did not understand how the civilians could tolerate such monstrosity in their own city, let alone their own temples.

Murtagh rolled his eyes at her train of thought but put up with her constant mumbling as he led her around the city. _You should be more accepting of such things, _he said into their link and her whispering stopped. She looked over at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

_How can I accept such a horrible practice? They maim themselves for no reason!_

_They maim themselves to be closer to their gods. Whether you like it or not, they believe it works. _

_Yes but-_

_Caislyn, _she knew whenever he said her real name whatever was to follow was extremely important. She quieted to let him speak. _You would do well to learn that your disapproval means nothing to them. They will continue in their traditions even if you ban it. But your show of support and acceptance, no matter how small, will increase the population's support of our cause in return, which is what we need. _

Seeing the logic of his words, Caislyn ducked her head. _I'm sorry… I should have thought before judging. _As if she could judge anyone for their beliefs or professions. She had risen from a common ship whore to a Dragon Rider, the grandest elevation she could possible hope for. It was even higher than Queen, for Rider's were an authority all their own.

_Yes, you should have, _Murtagh says, filling her with even more guilt. He could feel it through their connection and glanced over at her. _An honest mistake. It is difficult to accept those different to ourselves. It took me many years to like the King just because of the shade of his skin. _

Caislyn looked down at her own dark skin and then back to him, _what about me? _

Murtagh simply shrugged, _you're different._

_And that's not a bad thing? _

_No… no, it's not. _

So she stuck herself to his side, not trusting the city to venture out on her own. Murtagh, at first perturbed and put off by her sudden dependence, quickly got used to her constant presence. What started out as an effort to shoo her away soon morphed into them both dashing around the city with him showing her different buildings and markets, trying to convince her Dras Leona was not going to swallow her up.

She soon brought out the childlike side of him ―unfortunately for the city's inhabitants. If Caislyn asked for something, Murtagh would grumble at her but fetch it anyways, even if that meant climbing a very un-climbable tree for her. _Why am I doing this? _He muttered to himself, but still he climbed, grabbing the blossom she oh so desperately _needed _and scaling back down.

Standing in front of her, his hands guarding the precious bud while hers reaching out for it. In a split second of rogue train of thought, Murtagh evaded her fingers and simply tucked the flower behind her ear. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there were others watching, citizens cheering and clapping at his display, but the white blossom contrasted with her complexion and it befitted the White Rider to have something white in her hair, so he thought nothing more of a potentially romantic gesture.

Until she kissed him.

She had never done that before, and it shocked him more than he would ever admit. It wasn't even a kiss on his lips either, but when she leaned up, he automatically leaned down, and her lips brushed his cheek. Murtagh wanted to pull her a little bit closer in that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

They walked a little bit closer to each other after that, knuckles occasionally brushing knuckles and elbows bumping elbows. _Just playing the part of the happy Rider couple, here to bring the world peace and baby dragons, _Murtagh had to remind himself, catching Caislyn's gaze and quickly looking back to the merchant stand they were buying food from.

_And baby riders, _she chose to remind him, making Murtagh freeze. Caislyn grinned at his reaction but didn't push her luck too far. Coins were exchanged and then she led him back through the market in the direction of the Rider's Manor they were housed in during their stay. Thankfully there was a manor in every major city of the Empire, so they would have no trouble finding the right accommodations during their travels.

Caislyn frowned at the street rats running about in the shadows, obviously hungry and homeless. Stopping, she quickly reached into their bags and pulled out a loaf of bread for them to share. The small children swarmed her legs, whining and pleading, only wary of Murtagh who stood a few feet behind her. The Red Rider shot them looks of contempt but said nothing, watching to make sure they did not get out of hand. Caislyn was quick to distribute the food and the children were quick to retreat with their suppers.

_I… don't understand… do your nobles not care about the wellbeing of their people? _She looked back at him as they started walking, baffled at how so many indigent could be so out in the open and not taken care of.

Murtagh glanced down at her but ultimately did not maintain eye contact. _Caislyn, if the nobility worried about every single one of their citizens instead of thinking about the whole, nothing would get done. All a cities resources would go to feeding those who cannot feed themselves, and not to paying the city guard or funding trade. In a matter of months, the system would crash. _

Caislyn scowled at her feet; _do you not care about the wellbeing of the people? _

Murtagh growled at her in response, _girl, the only thing I care about is ending the damn war, not whether some needy children will sleep with a full belly tonight. _

Her eyes snapped up to meet him and this time the look in her eyes made him stop. Caislyn abruptly closed the distance between them, but instead of hitting him like Murtagh had been expecting, she simply took their newly bought merchandise and started walking again, quick to hand out food to the hungry. Murtagh sighed and followed behind, trying to ignore the pointed looks she sent him.

After a good half a mile of slow walking and nearly emptying their bags, Murtagh put a stop to it. He snatched the supplies away from her and held onto them tightly, avoiding her sneaky hands. "You've made your point, stop it." He growled, and she glared at him, but they started walking again. No words were exchanged until the door of the manor slammed shut behind them.

"How can you be so heartless?" Caislyn whirled on him, not even giving him a chance to move from the doorway. Murtagh rolled his eyes and pushed past her. She followed him into the parlour and continued her attack. "Those people are starving and we can help them!"

Murtagh snorted and turned on her, reminding her of their height different. "And when they're hungry again tomorrow, what then?"

"Then we feed them again!"

"That's impractical and completely senseless, and you know it."

"Helping people is not senseless, it's the honourable thing to do, Murtagh!"

Murtagh's face darkened, "and what would you know about honour, whore?"

Caislyn was taken aback by his words; never once had he brought that up into their fights. It was such a low blow, and through their connection she knew he was regretting it. "More than a noble born rider, apparently," she whispered, turning and heading for the stairs with soft steps. He made no move to follow her.

He burned off steam by hacking his way through test dummies outside, for once not thinking about the condition he left them in for the next rider to come along. After another hour, when the sun started to set, the pleasant burn in his limbs began to transform into a dull ache in his shoulders and thighs. Murtagh knew it was time to stop, but still he did not wish to face Caislyn.

When the sun set fully, he gave up on the idea of practicing until he dropped and snuck into the Dragon Keep behind the manor. He curled up next to the Thorn, and for once, the red dragon did not bother him with never ending questions.

The next day Murtagh made a point to head back to the market and buy what Caislyn had given away. When he spotted the children she fed the day before, he glared and scared them away, purposely marching through the city without once pausing to hand something to the homeless that hung in the shadows. He was nothing like the White Rider, and he wanted them to know that.

Again, Murtagh slept in next to his dragon, tossing and turning on the straw filled cushion as Thorn watched him fight through bad dreams with tired, bleary eyes.

Caislyn decided to take Aave for a flight above the city and Murtagh deemed it safe enough for her to go alone. Still, he glanced up at their circling form occasionally, just to check up on them. After a half dozen times his eyes began to hurt from tilting to the sky, and he reminded himself he was being silly.

Passing through the market, he spotted a small boy attempting to sneak a pear away from a merchant cart. His first instinct was to call attention to the law breaker and get the city guard to take him away, but when the child caught his eye, he stopped.

He saw himself.

No, he had never needed to steal for what he wanted, nor what he needed to survive; being born a noble and raised a favourite of the King granted him that luxury. But the desperation in those brown eyes frightened him, shocked him. How many times had he had that same look in his eyes? Surely more often than one might think. After all, desperation was one of the main reasons he tried to run away from Galbatorix in the first place.

Shaking himself out of his memories, Murtagh took a step forward. The boy froze, frightened out of his wits. There was no White Rider there to hand him a bit of food and send him on his way, only a Red Rider who never looked pleased and seemingly had no weak spots.

Except for the White Rider herself.

With Caislyn in mind ―cursing her the whole way, mind you― Murtagh made his way over and bent down, closing a copper piece in the boy's hand. Saying nothing, he stood back up, nodded to the merchant, and continued on his way back to her manor.

He had no desire to sleep in the Dragon Keep a third night in a row, so he marched himself right up to the master bedroom and began unstrapping his sword from his belt as he crossed the room.

It was not quite early enough for him to retire to bed, but he heard Caislyn in the back room, undoubtedly bathing. He had no desire to leave and come back in the middle of the night, only to awkwardly take his place next to her on the bed. Murtagh sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the door, his back to the bath. Slowly pulling Zarroc out of its sheath, he set to cleaning it with the new oil he bought in the market.

He was nearly finished when Caislyn joined him on the bed, the mattress dipping with her slight weight. Caislyn had wisely chosen to wait, simply watching him work from her place on the bed. She marveled at the way his muscles twitched when he used them, but still said nothing. They didn't speak, or move to make up, until he was finished with his sword.

He stared down at the burgundy blade, considering it and watching it gleam in the candle light. Murtagh stood and put Zarroc back in its scabbard, setting the sword down next to the bed and discarding his tunic there as well. He had no desire to bathe, so he simply laid down and pulled the covers up to his stomach, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry…" Caislyn whispered, glancing from her hands in her lap to Murtagh's face, overgrown with a few days stubble. He sighed and moved his gaze from the wooden support beams to her eyes, staring back at her.

He started and stopped, trying to find the right words to explain to her that she had nothing to be sorry for. That he was the one who should be a bundle of frenetic nerves, glancing nervously at his hands and fighting to keep his voice audible. After a few more minutes of silence, the Red Rider simply gave up.

Holding his hand out to her, Murtagh let his guarded expression drop. Caislyn was quick to scoot closer to him and pull the blankets up over their shoulders. She didn't dare cuddle right up close to his side ―not that Murtagh would have had the heart to protest― but there was very little space between them regardless.

Caislyn sighed, her breath tickling his chest, and he turned his head to look at her. "We have all the power in the known world, why can't we help these people?"

"Because…" Murtagh paused, again trying to find the right words for her. "Because sometimes change cannot be forced, no matter how much money and influence you have."

The silence that followed was thick enough to feel, and Murtagh was thankful when she finally responded. "I will never turn my back on the people who need me, even if change will not come easy."

Murtagh shifted and slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know…" He had more to say to her, something along the lines of never turning his back on her when she needed him, but just as he was about to say it, her quiet breathing slowed and the room remained silent.

Murtagh sighed to himself and closed his eyes, giving up on the idea of explaining how much he had come to enjoy her company. _Perhaps another time…_

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**Next Update: In a week or so! :D**


	64. The Hatching

**Last pre written chapter. The quarter ends this week, so I think I'll be taking this weekend to write and relax. However, my personal story, The Conquest, is going to be taken precedence as soon as Camp NaNoWriMo in about a week. I might update once or twice in April, but that's it.**

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Rhonny stood in front of her mirror, watching her own reflection with curiosity. Never before had she stopped and took the time to drink in her own looks, but the moment struck her as appropriate and she had nothing else to do. The cool glass beckoned to her as she walked past, and she back pedaled until she stood there, staring back at herself.

_Is this why Eragon loves me? _She thought, running her fingertips from her shoulders to her hips over her soft night wear. Surely Eragon loved her for her mind as well, but he was still a man, no matter how young he appeared to be, no matter how sheltered.

She turned, looking at her side and tilted her head in thought. She knew she was beautiful, but Eragon touched her in such a way that made her insides blossom and that frightened her. Rhonny was not a stranger to romance, or love, or sex for that matter, but somehow… _whenever he looks at me…_

_But what does he see? _She questioned, frowning. After a moment's hesitation her fingers trailed up to her chest and tugged at the strings of her tunic, mind racing. _What does he really see? _Her shirt fell down over her shoulders and floated to the floor, leaving her bare from the waist up.

Eragon often called her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and while Rhonny could see why, she had begun having doubts about their relationship. With Eragon gone for so long, and so far away, Rhonny knew there was a very real chance he would bed a whore and realize the only thing he held for her was an overpowering lust. To be completely honest with herself, she wouldn't care if Eragon merely wanted to keep her on as a mistress as long as she got to spend time with him. Maybe they could even remain friends, but indubitably Galbatorix would marry the charismatic Blue Rider off to some powerful Lord's daughter to strengthen ties.

Rhonny had thought about it often but never mentioned it to him. Eragon said he would marry her "good and proper" and she believed him, she trusted him. She loved him. She loved him enough to give him her spoils without his prompting, hoping to boost his confidence and scrape away whatever nervousness that seemed to linger in his system from the last relationship he had, or his bad childhood as a whole. From what she had heard, Eragon grew up second best to his cousin but still very much loved. Rhonny had tried to help him with that, and she knew she would continue to do so as long as he needed her to.

But there was always something gnawing at the back of her mind. With nothing to offer him, why would Eragon stay with her? Her hands slid down from her hips, fingers playing over the curve of her pelvis and lower still. Of course he might stay for certain things, _but the right things?_

Maybe, who knew? The gods would continue to toy with her, no doubt. Fingertips grazing sensitive skin, her hand melted into the curve of her body where the hair grew short but thick. Into the velvet where Eragon loved to play; where his fingers would dance on particularly warm nights. Rhonny's eyes fluttered closed and her lips slowly parted. A memory overtook her, and all at once she didn't care why Eragon might stay, she just wanted him to return.

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Saphira lifted her head, humming happily at the half dwarf. _Good morning, Rhonny, _she cooed, craning her long neck down to nudge at the woman. Smelling strong tones of soap and a tiny bit of perfume, the dragon smiled, a learned behavior from her rider. _Are we off to somewhere? _As far as the dragoness knew, Eragon was not due back for another few weeks yet. What was the young woman dressing up for?

"I was wondering if you wanted to spend some time in the village? It's become dreadfully boring in the manor with no one to keep me company, and I'm in no mood to creep out into the woods to entertain myself. I was hoping we could maybe traverse through the market and pick a few things?"

Saphira had nothing better to do, and she did enjoy Rhonny's company, so she readily agreed to the new plan. _Of course we can, that sounds lovely. _Stretching her wings out, Saphira crooned at the feeling of the morning sun on her back then yawned rather loudly, fully waking for the first time that day. Glancing over Rhonny at the manor where her eggs lays, Saphira frowned softly. _What of my eggs? Will they be safe alone?_

Rhonny considered this before grinning broadly, "Both Eragon and the King have put protective spells on them, and no one knows they are even here, let alone that they exist. I'm sure they'll be fine without us for just an hour or two. We can come check on them midday, and take them out into the sun, if you wish it?"

Saphira hummed happily and lowered her body down, offering a ride. Rhonny climbed up, using the dragoness' spikes to haul herself into the right position. "Are you sure this is safe? Won't your scales chafe my legs?"

_It is only a short ways; if you feel uncomfortable I will land and let you off. _Rhonny shrugged and held on tightly as Saphira flapped her wings a few times and took a running start to get into the air.

_I'll never get used to this feeling, _Rhonny admitted, looking down at the ground with a mix of trepidation and excitement.

Saphira, present in the dwarf's mind, only chuckled. _I don't think I'll ever get used to it either. _

The town was buzzing with activity upon their arrival. While The Blue Rider himself wasn't making an appearance, the Blue Dragon had finally come down from her dignified perch on the hill above to grace the locals with her presence. Or, at least, that's how the town saw it.

People made way for the two, watching and ogling in curiosity; it was obvious the majority of the population wished to reach out and touch her glistening scales. As Rhonny led the way, smiling and accepting adoration in the form of polite bows and beaming grins, Saphira walked behind. She was trying to be careful not to hit any houses or merchant karts with her tail or her wings, as she had a habit of doing in crowded areas. Luckily, the citizens seemed to understand her actual size, and as much as they wanted to surge forward and surround the two, they respected her space and kept their distance.

Once Rhonny gathered up the fruit they needed and set about buying various trinkets, exciting vendors by saying she would be giving them to the Blue Rider, Saphira was content to sit in the middle of the market square and curl her tail around her hind legs. The half dwarf flashed her an encouraging smile, and Saphira looked around to the children staring at her in awe.

Spreading her conscience into theirs, the she dragon let her voice ring strong and smooth, _you may come closer. _Permitting this, she watched as mother carefully led their children up and men came closer, heads bowed in respect. Purring to signal she was perfectly alright with their new closeness, Saphira noticed more and more people swarming around them, careful to keep her personal space intact. Saphira made sure to keep an eye on Rhonny.

The hands and fingertips of daring children brushed along her scales, making her flesh twitch. When Saphira didn't react negatively, the children dared sit on her tail, almost playing atop its length. Saphira smiled and chuckled for them all, and it was that sounds that made the whole town breathe a sigh of relief. Soon there were people vying for her attention, asking various questions and wishing for blessings. One woman's words caught her attention, and Saphira turned her head to look at the mother.

_What did you say? _Saphira asked gently, lowering her head so her figure would less threatening to those around them.

The woman smiled and ducked her head in greeting before repeating herself as requested. "I merely stated you are the embodiment of feminine power and grace, much like our goddess of love and beauty, Freyja." Saphira, knowing nothing of this religion (it did not match Rhonny's and it certainly didn't match Eragon's) stared for a moment. She was honoured by the compliment, of course, and more than a bit embarrassed by it.

_I do not have a connection with your deity, but I will try my best to make her proud and earn her favour. _This seemed to thrill the whole crowd, a chorus of cheers and applause rising into the air. Saphira glanced at Rhonny, who was shaking her head and laughing at the whole ordeal.

"Come, we should be heading back," Rhonny called, and the crowd parted to let her through. Saphira nodded in agreement.

_Well met, all of you, _Saphira rumbled and bowed her head in goodbye, and, much to her surprised, the whole town dropped to their knees in response. Saphira hid her surprise very well, as did Rhonny. Soon the half dwarf was mounted on her back again, and Saphira began to walk. Against the crowd moved out of their way, and as soon as Saphira had enough room to she gained speed before throwing herself into the air.

Leaving the town behind, Saphira sighed to herself. _Can you believe Caislyn and Aave have to do that at each town they come to? _

Rhonny smiled and patted Saphira's neck comfortingly, _they have Murtagh and Thorn to keep them company, do not fret. _

_Some company, _Saphira quipped, but they both knew The Red Rider and Dragon would keep the two girls safe and comfortable, even if Murtagh did have a foul mouth and Thorn was sometimes too lenient for his own good.

Arriving back at the manor, Rhonny put away the food she purchased and carefully hung up the new jewelry she bought. It was not shiny or expensive, more befitting a young, rural bride than a newlywed Queen, but the style reminded her of home and the patterns were not less beautiful than the most elaborate the King's money could buy. Rhonny was happy with her new accessories, and looked forward to wearing them in front of Eragon to see what he might think.

Moving to the locked door towards the back of the master chambers, she connected her mind to Saphira's in order to open the lock and step inside. The room was well lit with soft magic with the giant, heavy built chest in the middle of the floor. Rhonny kneeled in front of it, undid the lock with Saphira's help, and shoved the lid up with all her might, knowing the thick, spell filled wood was incredibly heavy.

_Oh my- _Rhonny gasped, and Saphira stared through her eyes. They had only been gone for an hour or so, and yet, the eggs had completely changed since when they checked on them that morning.

Cracks were beginning in various places on the exterior of the shells, signaling the awakening of the hatchlings inside. From her place on the back lawn, Saphira roared in pure exhilaration, shaking the hill the manor rested upon.

Once her excitement faded, however, Saphira realized she had no idea what to do with hatching eggs. She knew that the actual hatching process could take a week or two to complete, but beyond that, Shruikan had told her very little. This scared her. Her mind shifted into panic mode, and thankful Rhonny had been there with her to calm her down and help her think straight once again or Saphira would have sunk into a horrible, instinctual mental state.

_Shruikan, if you can hear me, our eggs are hatching! _Saphira's conscience boomed, reaching out through the connection she had with the older dragon who, while halfway across the kingdom, would undoubtedly hear her.

The answer she got was an overpowering enthusiastic roar, and though she could only hear the sound through her mind, Saphira swore she felt the power of it in bones, filling her already bubbling veins with something she had never felt before, let alone so strong.

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**Next Update: Two weeks... so very far away...**


	65. Fuck Honour

**I've got the rest of the story planned out. I'll write another chapter next weekend maybe, about this length, too. Enjoy~**

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The flight from Aroughs was smooth and silent. The grounds flew by below him, his great wings beating every once in a while to keep him gliding on the southern winds. The air currents carried the bulk of his weight, as was the only way dragons could fly, so he was content to let nature do the work for him. It was easier, after all, and he had a long flight ahead of him.

Galbatorix sent him back, not to check for stragglers or an unknown force trying to surround the moving army but to safeguard the vacant capital. The King leaving his throne unguarded meant it was open for the taking, at least according to old, unspoken laws. Undoubtedly there were many a nosy politicians and greedy lords waiting for the King himself to weaken or die, if only to take his crown. With no heirs, the only thing keeping Galbatorix on the throne was Galbatorix himself. The man would live as long as Shruikan did but even if that span of time was to be just shy of a thousand years, he needed to secure his line to the throne so no one could take it from his children. _If the King was to claim an heir…_

_No matter, Galbatorix has no time for familiar matters in such a time of war. _It was true; none of the kingdom should be worried about producing children at such a time. Families were already struggling hard enough to keep their babies alive past a few months or the first years, and then even if the children lived that long, the sons would be lost to war and the daughters to pillaging.

From the south came rebels, eager to take as much land as they could. From the north, Elves and Urgals, both just as zealous in their conquests for land and treasure. To the east lay desert, a barren land that held neither friend nor foe, fortunately and unfortunately. To the west rested sea upon miles of sea. So much water if made Shruikan sick just thinking about it, and for a moment he could almost smell the sea salt, his nostrils flaring with the familiar scent.

In reality, he smelt nothing but the dry grass and overgrown bush below him. His wings stirred the vegetation as he passed over, kicking up dirt and rippling the rare water source. The air was arid, one of the downsides of the dry seasons in the south, but anything was better than flying in humid air.

_If no one should be worried about producing children, why is it the only thing on my mind? _He asked himself after a moment of brief mental stagnancy. Such obsession could not be blamed on the approaching mating season, still many months away. Even if the season was closer, he could not peg his pining on a cycle. He had endured decades alone with no trouble beside short relapses where he didn't know what to do with the unused pulsating energy inside him.

A pulsating energy that left him aching and itchy and too big for his own skin, a nervous energy that made him jumpy and edgy and hostile, a lonely energy that left him whining and roaring when he knew no one would hear him and no one would answer. So he stretched his limbs and paced and snarled and snapped, left pining on and on for a feeling he didn't know even existed but wanted desperately to find, it being the only feeling that could sate him.

He was pining for her. However pitiful and cheap of him it might be, he was pining for the only female he had made contact with in many years. He was so lonely, so so lonely, and she was so, so lovely. Did he want her ―love her― because she was lovely, or because he was lonely? Both, if he could ever admit it to anyone but himself. He wanted her badly, how had he managed to control himself for this long?

He had not seen her in many months, how had he lasted this long without her? Without hearing her sweet, raspy yet delicate voice, without looking into her wise yet unwise eyes that held so much innocence and distrust and naivety and hatred it made him go sick with a need to show her how wonderful their world could be; how had he survived without her? Surely this was insanity taking over his mind.

Thankfully, such mindless and overpowering thoughtlessness had not overtaken all the King's helpers. In fact, several leagues south Eragon rode in silent thought, his brain muddled with words and colors as he tried to think up a good combination for his house banner. It was mentally exhausting, but Eragon didn't mind terribly, as it gave him something to while riding abreast to his King, who was also very much in thought, but not yet completely lost in his own mind.

After giving it great thought, Eragon was almost settled on his sigil and his words. He wanted something that reflected himself but not in an arrogant way. With such a strange family dynamic, Eragon knew he would feel uncomfortable pulling from his heritage for inspiration. With his mother dead and his father absent for most of his life, Eragon had been raised by his aunt and uncle with Roran. Then his aunt died, and things got tougher. If only he could somehow use his background for something.

"Eragon, what troubles you?" Galbatorix asked, reining his horse in closer to Eragon's. Their mounts could not compare to the majesty of a dragon, but the King thought it best to have Shruikan fly back to Saphira immediately. After bidding his farewells, and exchanging luck with them, the black dragon had been off. Of course there was no lack of suitable horses for the Riders to use for the journey, so they were not indisposed.

Eragon blinked and turned his head, coming out of a daze. "Oh nothing, my King, you have no need to worry."

Galbatorix snorted in response, "come now, boy, we have nothing else to talk about. Let me ease your mind, at least."

Sighing somewhat, Eragon shrugged and responded, "a whole mess of things, Galbatorix, but none of it too radical. In fact, I'm not even worried about Saphira and her children. The thing that keeps overtaking my mind is what my house words will be."

Galbatorix's eyebrows popped up in mild surprise, "really? Have you decided on your sigil yet?"

"Oh yes, of course. That part was easy; I merely based it on my native home. A blue stag on a silver field." At the look he received, Eragon chuckled and said, "it looks great in my head, don't worry."

"And why did you choose that? What's the connection to home... other than the fact you lived in the forest..."

"Well, to my village… deer were a symbol of life, a reassurance that no matter how bad the winter, spring would always come. When we saw them in our snow covered fields, we would feel inspired, revived."

"So the stag is an inspiration."

"Yes! Yes exactly, and when people see my flag, I want them to feel inspired as well. I know the men look upon your banners and gain courage; I want them to feel the same when they lay eyes upon mine."

Galbatorix grinned at his enthusiasm and nodded in encouragement, "now is the time, I suppose, you've got plenty of time to think of your words before we reach Aroughs." He nodded in farewell to the young rider and swung his horse around to join the generals behind them.

Eragon smiled in return and went back to his thoughts. _Wait... That's it! _"Galbatorix, that's it! I know what I want my banner to read!"

Galbatorix turned his horse around again, drawing attention to himself. "What is it, Blue Rider?" He called back to Eragon, who sat just a few horse lengths ahead of him on the long line of soldiers.

"My words!"

"Yes?" The King asked, looking amused. He hadn't expected the boy to come up with something so quickly. Perhaps it was a spur of the moment feeling, one that would turn stale and taste stiff on the tongue after a few hours passed. Galbatorix would not blame Eragon for creating several mottos and not knowing which fit best; he had done it himself when he toyed with the idea of making a new banner instead of taking on his fathers.

"Now is the Time," Eragon answered, grinning his normal, charismatic grin.

Eragon did not know the significance of his words when he said them. The saying quickly spread, starting from the mouths of the stewards and squires who rode with knights with high enough positions to put them near the two dragon riders. Then the rumour made its way from ward to ward, and finally into the common drabble.

Maybe it cheapened the saying, to have it known by all before he could get it in writing, but it strengthened the resolves and raised the morale, for reasons unknown to the poor boy. Galbatorix grinned and shook his head, instead choosing to turn his head toward the expanse of sea stretching out below them. They had a high vantage point overlooking the city, its harbour, and the line of coast in which it held its fleet. Crisp white flags billowed with the salty wind that banked hard up the sides of the rocks and bashed them in the face, rendering most men red eyed and weeping. But Galbatorix had hardened himself to such things, and he beckoned for Eragon to join him on the cliff.

The manes of their mounts stirred by the wind both otherwise remained unfazed by the height, so Eragon figured he had no reason to worry more than the beasts. He trotted forward lazily then slowed to a safer gate when he neared the edge. He gulped and looked down, fascinated and terrified all once, then cast his eyes over to the King, whose own eyes were narrowed and calculating, his brow wrinkled in thought.

"Surely they know we have arrived, your majesty." Galbatorix nodded, still silent and in thought, which prompted Eragon to hold his tongue and try to look out over the rebel city with as much poise and speculation Galbatorix did. He managed, looking very much a young Prince next to his father. _What a strange thought, surely it is Murtagh who is more a Prince._

"Lovely day for battle, is it not?" Galbatorix stated, leaving no room for argument. Eragon cast his eyes up, squinting at the sun directly above them. Did the King mean to backtrack his large host and march them down the gentler hills to their left, leading them all into the defiant city? That very afternoon? It would take a good hour to march down the slopes, another to take the wall, being modest towards their own capabilities. It all depended on the King's mood, and he seemed to be a fine mood indeed.

"Yes, your majesty," Eragon agreed, his armour now light as air encasing his body. His horse felt the strain, no doubt, but it was a big beast and their pace had been nothing but a paced walk since they had begun. He felt powerful in his metal suit, the joints making no sound when he moved, the leather polished and clean. To his secret, childishly giddy delight, he even matched his mount, a heavy but agile dapple grey. He never had an eye for horses, not caring for them much beyond their usefulness in front of a plow, but Eragon had grown fond of the animal and had been ecstatic when Galbatorix allowed him to keep it.

On a more serious note, the Blue Rider could acknowledge the way he and the King rode side by side and rarely rode with anyone else. It put them a step above the soldiers, more so than simply having mounts did. Eragon rather enjoyed not having to walk everywhere as he feared he would for the rest of his life (this had been before he met Saphira, of course) and his saddle sores were nonexistent thanks to his experience riding Saphira's back.

The King himself didn't seem to notice the way he looked down his nose, not openly or hostile, but certainly with an air of general superiority. It suited him, added to his appeal, even Eragon could admit it, and he had never been attracted to another man. It wasn't about sex appeal, per say, but the gravitational pull of a man who radiated control and made you want to try for conversation without even uttering a hello. How was it possible? The Blue Rider had no idea, but he guessed it came from the fact lords and kings were supposed to be held a head higher than the commoners, and riding with a seemingly natural impassiveness for the plights of those below, both on foot and those raised in a different social class, put Galbatorix exactly where everyone expected a King to place himself. To be too friendly with the common man would surely upset the order, even Eragon understood that.

The young rider was in a strange place in his life. He had gone from having nothing to having everything, yet he still remembered what it was like to live in poverty and be uncertain of where your next meal as coming from. Both his parents hadn't been in his life, and his supporters had done the best with what they had. At first he had hated the empire for the wrongdoings upon the people, his people, and his loved ones. He had grown out of that stage, it seemed. Galbatorix had joked, in one of his lighthearted moments, that Eragon had been much like a teenager going through his rebellious years only to eventually come back home. And Eragon felt very much at home in the palace, gladly accepting the support of the King and his brother, and his love.

How much he had changed over the years, nearly six had passed since he had discovered Saphira's egg in the woods. All leading up to this moment, sitting astride his king on the back of a courser looking over an untouched city left for the taking? Maybe. Eragon had no doubt this was his place in the world, but he did wish he could see his family again.

Who did he have left? He could find ―_would _find― Roran, and his lovely lady wife, Katrina. Last he had seen of them, they were planning to be wed and start a family. Wartime was not the best for children, but surely by now he had a niece or nephew to meet. The thought make him smile, his eyes training on to the way the waves and sea foam lapped at the sand and the docks less than a mile below.

"Yes, your majesty, a lovely day for battle," he repeated, only then taking his eyes away from the harbour. He felt the bloodlust channel from Saphira, so far away yet an ever present consciousness in the back of his mind, experiencing his thoughts silently, and outright grinned. Far out at sea, he knew, the Red Fleet lay anchor and waited, patiently, for the King's signal.

"I am finally reclaiming my birthright, Eragon. Care to reclaim it with me?" Galbatorix swung his mount around, its sleek black muscles rippling as if to match the polish on his black and dark purpureus armour. One night, after a few prodding questions from Eragon's mouth to Galbatorix's ear, the King had revealed his heritage to be true rather than tainted. He was the son of the last king of the Broddring Kingdom, whose father had suffered from sickness all his life and left his kingdom to his Black Hand and his underage son.

No one remembered the small boy growing into a charming Prince, and finally a King with no Queen, only his abrupt takeover of the royal palace, causing several deaths. That was the overthrow he was known for, much to his shame. Eragon had finally wrapped his mind around the idea, one of the few remaining tales from his childhood proved wrong. Perhaps he had begun to expect it by now, which is why he recovered from the shock so quickly.

Eragon took one last look at the small port city before turning his horse around as well, once again coming up alongside his King. "As long as you can make use of me, I will stay by your side."

They leisurely made their way down toward the King's host, generals and advisors waiting for their next move. With the Red Fleet poised to attack from the water, a blockade waiting up river should rebels try to sail north, and a massive army positioned between Aroughs and the rest of the Empire, the rebels had nowhere to run but into Surda, where they were free to be picked off by savages and wildlings who roamed the marshlands between the river and Dauth.

"Move the Third and the Sixth around to the east and northeast. If any rebels make it through your lines, I will hold you personally accountable." The two coronels nodded before swinging their horses around and cantering away. The two battalions would be able to rest once they reached their positions, no doubt, so Galbatorix had no qualms sending the men marching again.

The rest of the brigade was to make its way down towards the city, timing their assault on the thick, towering wall with the Red Fleets cannons and subsequent invasion from the docks inward. Unfortunately, the city of Aroughs was built similar to Teirm, in a tiered formation in which its buildings grew taller and taller the further you ventured in. It would have been useful to have a dragon to keep archers off the roofs of the inner buildings, but a few casualties could not be avoided unless the greater scheme of things was altered. And Galbatorix needed this city back in his realm, so he would have it.

Another hour and the thunder of cannons rang in the air, debris flying overhead as smoke from the blazing buildings filled the air, along with the columns of dust stirred up by the shifting feet of soldiers on the move, piling in through the torn apart city gates. Galbatorix's strong spells were nothing compared the awful majesty of a dragon using nothing but tooth and claw to tear its way through thick would and metal, but the King got the job done in record time. No fancy displays of power, no awe inspiring magic. The gates simply toppled inward, torn at the thick hinges, its portcullis rendered useless.

Murder holes and openings on the outer wall where arches fired arrows from safety where ignored by the initial spells, and Eragon was quick to swoop in and stop disaster from overtaking their first line of soldiers when hot tar was dropped down and lit aflame. Galbatorix gave him a nod, but soon they were forced to turn their attention elsewhere.

Rarely did royals actually partake in battle; sticking them both on the sidelines watching the battle unfold other than the occasional spell to aid the common forces. They shared looks of surprise, nods of agreement, and smiles of accomplishment, but mostly kept their eyes open for anything that might change their plans. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing for cause of concern.

The Red Fleet entered the chaotic city from the harbour, Aroughs' fleet floated mangled and shattered within the hour, the sailors and ships wasted and already washing up on shore. The Red Fleet sat upon red water and pink foam as its sailors and swashbucklers swung from ropes and dropped down onto the docks like deadly angels, dual blades in every hand, and began to swarm in through tack and bait shops, taverns and brothels. The city was turned inside out in another hour until only its small citadel remained untaken, and Galbatorix set his gaze upon it with a quiet determination.

"Let us put this armour to good use, yes?" Galbatorix teased playfully, reining his horse around and heading for the conquered city's gates at a lope. With wards up and protecting them from all angles of attack, they rode through the conquered city followed by a small escort. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the King and his Blue Rider could best any challenger, but should they be swarmed by a rebel force, they would need the support.

The tower was where the city's government was held, and therefore its fortifications were the strongest, even stronger than the banks surrounding it. Inside, Nasuada cowered, no doubt, along with her council and advisors. They would die with her, if Galbatorix had anything to say about it. And, being the King, he had _everything _to say about it.

Dismounting and brandishing their swords, Galbatorix gave the signal to knock down the door. The soldiers stormed through, falling from the volley of arrows waiting on the other side. Then came the swordsmen, matching their small force blade for blade. Eragon pushed his way to the front and blasted his way into back rooms, level by level, guarded door after guarded door, empty hallway after empty hallway. He needed to get to Nasuada before someone killed her or she had a chance to escape somehow, he needed to know where Roran was.

He plowed his way through the thrown open double doors of the citadels largest room. Nasuada stood in the farthest corner, blade shaking in her hands. Her guards were slain all around the room, some gasping for water or sobbing in pain. On either side of the King kneeled turncloaks and traitors, intermixed with Galbatorix's soldiers. It seemed that in the face of defeat and death, Nasuada's rebels would gladly lay down their arms in hopes of mercy.

Eragon didn't know what to think of such lack of loyalty, not fully realizing he had also laid down his weapons before the King and swore away any loyalties he had toward the young Varden leader and the Elves alike. Galbatorix was truly one of the more lenient rulers, happy to let men return to their families if it meant the war ended sooner. Problem was, weren't most of the rebel families inside Aroughs anyway? Or somewhere in Surda, perhaps?

It was for the best, maybe, that the rebels flee into Surda and stay there with their families. They could have a taste of what it was like to live under another ruler, and choose to stay if they liked it. No doubt many would return, as Surda was going through a tough economic crisis that put the Empire's poverty percentage to shame. The smaller kingdom held only a fraction of the wealth and a fraction of the military power, making it difficult to stake a claim with such an overpowering neighbor to the north warring within itself, and rogue jungle tribes just a short sail to the south.

Flicking his eyes over to Nasuada, Eragon frowned. She had no hopes of winning, so perhaps she would be open to negotiation. Why hadn't she attempted to flee, knowing her city was lost? Surely she wasn't so arrogant to believe the walls would protect her. Eragon soon realized that he had walked into the middle of a lopsided debate, with Nasuada breaking under the persuasions of the King.

"Surely you do not wish to end your life here, now? You are so young; you have no husband, no children? Don't you wish to have a second try at a future, a family?"

The young woman glared, sweat beading on her forehead. The Blue Rider recognized the way her pupils were dilating, her teeth gritting: Galbatorix was slowly but surely breaking through her mental walls, claiming her head for his own use and manipulation. Eragon shuddered and let his sword hang toward his feet, low near the ground.

Not wishing to distract the King, Eragon took a quiet step forward. Galbatorix didn't look at him, but the acknowledgement was in the way his fingers twitched by his side, a silent and secret hello. Eragon briefly wondered if he should close his eyes and dive his own consciousness forward to help the King, then thought better of it. Instead, he inched forward while Nasuada was distracted.

Suddenly, the Varden leader snapped. Tears burst from her eyes, her whole body slumping to the side. Eragon rushed to catch her, easing her into his arms instead of letting her hit the floor. Several soldiers lurched forward as if to help, fearing the rebel would somehow harm their precious rider. Eragon kept his hold on the woman who he once knew and understood, not knowing any of the horrors that had befallen her since he left. Ultimately, it was Eragon's betrayal that led to her defeat.

"Eragon," the King's voice demanded his attention, so he relinquished Nasuada's sobbing body to the guards and stepped in his place by Galbatorix's side. He lay his hand on the pommel of his sword and waited as the King gave out a few orders, what to do with the girl, what to do with the city. Any rebels found were to be killed, and the Red Fleet was to be given free reign over the city, within reason. Let them take a fair share, being just a step from pirates after all, and let them take the any whores they liked. Any fights between Imperial soldiers and Red soldiers were to be broken up immediately and severely punished. Racism and tension was to be expected, but Galbatorix had greater things to worry about.

"The Girl Queen comes with me," Galbatorix said, leading the way to one of the less damaged rooms of the citadel. They brought in shackles and hooked Nasuada up to the floor, letting her lay and cry on a bed of blankets and pillows. Eragon looked her over with an expression akin to pity, wondering what would become of her. "Do not give her your pity, Eragon, she will have an easy life for now. To kill her would make her a martyr to her scattered forces and to King Orrin of Surda, so I will let her live."

"Do you only spare her in fear of this martyrdom?" Eragon dared ask, his eyes not leaving Nasuada's trembling form.

"No. I have other uses for her." When Eragon poised to ask, undoubtedly wanting to know what other uses these could be, Galbatorix cut him off calmly. "Uses a man does not speak of to anyone but himself."

Eragon swallowed and nodded compliantly, turning his attention away from Nasuada. Surely the King wouldn't be… hurtful… Men could do terrible things to women, sure, and the fact Galbatorix had Nasuada chained in a room that would be his private quarters only confirmed Eragon's suspicions. _Well, she is beautiful, even with the dark skin. _

Pushing himself away from those thoughts, Eragon took a step closer to the King. "Any news of my cousin, my King?" He was hopeful, that much was obvious. If he could just know a little about Roran, even if he couldn't find the rebel, he would be put at ease. If it turned out Roran was killed sometime during the fight, Eragon would mourn, yes, but console himself with the fact Roran died fighting for a cause he believed in, like he would have wanted.

"I have not begun scouring through Nasuada's brain, but she thought of him when she saw you. Apparently you look much alike and she believed she was about to be rescued," Galbatorix skillfully hid his amusement at the idea and continued, "he was stationed in the tower at the north wall. If he lived, he will be there, taken prisoner."

Eragon was quick to pardon himself and take his leave, bursting out the door and taking the steps down two by two. His heart was pounding with a mix of dread, excitement, and adrenaline when he reached his horse and vaulted up onto its back. Heels dug in, the Blue Rider yelled his warning and took off at a run through the narrow streets, not stopping for anyone in his way and thankfully not hitting anyone. Weaving through streets and swinging around corners, Eragon fought his impatience every time his horse was forced to slow to a trot, its shod hooves clapping on the worn away cobblestones.

His impatience stemmed from the fear Roran was dead ―or more correctly, dying― which would make a late arrival inexcusable. What if Imperial soldiers were simply standing around, weapons still sheathed and shoulders slumped, halfheartedly joking amongst themselves, as his cousin slouched against his chains, arms behind his back and on his knees. What if he was slowly loosing strength? What if he was giving up, believing there was no use to keep living after his cause had died? What if Nasuada's defeat had quickly spread to every corner of the city, furthering Roran's mental exhaustion? What if he was closing his eyes right then, never to open them again?

Eragon's mount was sucking in air through an open mouth and fighting against the bit by the time Eragon leapt off its back and charged towards the tower door. The guards tensed, assuming he was foe. "Brisingr!" He barked, and his sword came to life in his hand, flames spreading from red to white over his blade. It was his signature symbol, and instantly the soldiers backed away, granting him entrance.

He wound his way up the tower levels, questioning guards and interrogating prisoners as went, always asking the same question: Have you seen a man who fought with a hammer? Of course, this questions led to other, more specific questions like "did he look like me? Slightly shorter, thicker than I?" It was hard for him to picture Roran looking any different than how he last saw him, which made it hard for the soldiers on duty to help him find who he was looking for.

Their long awaited meeting was not what Eragon wished it to be. "Traitor!" His cousin swore and spit, the glob landing on Eragon's eye.

The Rider did not fully understand why his cousin could be so mad at him, considering he was the sole person who took down the city, and certainly not the driving force behind the attack. He reached a hand up to clean his face off with his sleeve, kneeling before Roran with a patience he had only begun to learn from the King. "Roran please, I only wish to talk to you."

Thus began a solid five minute tirade. "Talk?! If you wanted to talk you shouldn't have run off without telling any of us where you were going! What the hell is wrong with you, Eragon?! You've turned against your own family and now fight for the very empire that killed your mother, your uncle! THE EMPIRE THAT KILLED MY WIFE!"

Eragon froze, stunned to silence. At the look on the Rider's face, Roran continued, triumphant but heartbroken and suffering all at once. "Katrina is dead, Eragon, you little piece of shit! Without you around, you and that precious dragon bitch, the Razzac stole her away from me and took her to their cave! SHE'S DEAD, YOU BASTARD, all because of you and your stupid conquest for self-discovery!"

Eragon had to stand and take a step back, speechless. "Roran no, she has to be alive, we can find her, I promise. We can ride out to their nest and-"

"Fuck you, Eragon, I wouldn't let you help even if she _wasn't _dead!" Eragon secretly doubted she really was, wanting ever so much to believe Roran was just overreacting due to his hysteria and heartbreak. "You're no better than the scum that burned down our village after you ran away!"

Eragon took another step back, mouth open and brow furrowed with guilt and sorrow. His one family member, other than Murtagh, and Roran hated him. Maybe in time his cousin would learn to forgive, but for now… Roran just needed to rescue Katrina, or die trying. "Release him." The guards froze, uncertain, and Eragon repeated himself. "Release him! Drag him to the city gates and release him outside the walls. Your King orders it!"

He took another step back before turning on his heel and running back down the tower stairs, flight after flight until he reached the bottom. He swung up onto his horse with the help of a nearby guard then turned just in time to watch the guards dive into action, eager to complete their most recent assignment if came from the King himself. One of the greatest perks about being friend to the King was no one questioned his orders, figuring they'd get into more trouble _not _doing something for him if Galbatorix really did order it than if they did something he hadn't commanded. If anything, Eragon would take the punishment for using the King's authority to his own advantage, right? Except Galbatorix figured Eragon would have his cousin released and didn't mind at all.

_I don't understand, _Eragon thought to himself, letting his horse carry him back to the citadel the King was waiting in. His life was supposed to get better once Nasuada was removed from the equation. The rebel force was scattered into Surda to fend for themselves against whatever violent deaths awaited them in the marshlands surrounding the river. Instead the skies were darkening with gathering clouds, as if to resemble his growing sour mood, and his life was falling apart instead. Maybe not completely, but the one part he wanted to fit after all this time instead cracked and crumbled to the ground.

Who did he have now? Saphira, always, obviously, Rhonny too, the love of his life. Galbatorix would support him no matter his endeavor, he was sure of it, and Murtagh would forever remain that dark, broody voice that set his expectations down a notch. He had friends, he had family. He had love, and a purpose. Why did he feel he needed more than that?

Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he would move on from Roran's rejection quicker than he expected to. Eragon _was _very busy, after all, it would be heard for him to dwell on something only existing in the back of his mind. Roran would be running off to gods knew where to find his wife, and Eragon probably wouldn't see him for many years. He would seek out his cousin again, perhaps, after short separation. Surely if Katrina was not dead, Roran would not be so bitter and more inclined to accept Eragon's apology.

With that in mind, Eragon handed the reins to a young squire and made his way up the citadels main building, headed back towards Galbatorix's room again. The King would want to speak with him, no doubt, and Eragon valued his advice over any other, so it would be best to seek the Black Rider out and talk with him, garnering whatever solace he could from the older man.

"Eragon," Galbatorix's voice rang through the quiet room as Eragon closed the door behind him. The King lounged on a couch, looking absolutely relaxed, with Nasuada kneeling on the floor nearby. Eragon's eyebrows shot up but he wisely said nothing. "Come, sit with me."

Eragon made his way to a chair and lowered himself into it, sighing slightly. Thankfully, Nasuada made no move to acknowledge him, or take off his boots or something equally uncomfortable. "How are you, my King?" Eragon asked, sneaking a glance at Nasuada's face. Her lips were swollen and bruised, and Eragon didn't care to think what caused this, but otherwise she looked unharmed.

"I am tired, in truth, but at peace. The usual worries of my mind have been pushed back, and for now I am content to lay here." Galbatorix put an arm behind his head, resting against the many pillows lining the couch and the armrest. "What troubles you, Eragon?"

"I had my cousin released beyond the city walls. He persisted his wife is dead at the hands of the Razzac and their mounts."

"Do you believe him?"

Eragon had to think about it for a moment. "I want to say Katrina is alive… but if she was truly taken by those creatures… then she is dead, and he is not as hysterical as he seems."

"Grief can get the better of all of us, Eragon, remember that." Eragon nodded in response, slouching further into his seat. "But… I sense these will not ease your mind?"

Eragon shook his head, head hanging slightly as he stared down at his own hands clasped together on his knees. Galbatorix thought for a moment, considering something, then offered the only advise he had. "You need a distraction."

"Yes! What will we do next?" He asks, desperate for an out to take his mind off the day's occurrences.

"In a few days, we will head back to Uru'Baen. Hopefully, we will arrive before Saphira's eggs hatch, yes?" Eragon nodded eagerly, overjoyed at the news, but his heart quickly sank again. "But in the next few days, you will need something else to preoccupy your time. Find a whore."

Eragon's eyes widened and his head whipped up so fast his neck cracked. He yelped a little bit, rubbing the back of his neck. "W-what? A-"

"A whore, yes. An excellent distraction. Go find your own." Eragon swallowed, glancing back down to Nasuada who had begun to shift in her place on the floor.

_A prostitute? _His heart pounded slightly at the thought, knowing the wonders of a woman's body would be a nice diversion from his troubles. "Y-yes, my King, I think that will work nicely." He stood, nearly tripping over his own feet when Nasuada abruptly climbed into the King's lap, obviously not in her right mind, and began to grind down onto his hips. While Eragon had figured Galbatorix had been going through her mind while Eragon visited Roran, he didn't think he would start controlling the girl.

Forcing himself not the stare as the King's hands began to wander ―not like Galbatorix would kick him out if he gawked instead of finding the door― Eragon swallowed, bid his polite goodbyes, and headed toward the door. "And Eragon?"

Eragon froze with his hand on the doorknob before turning to face the King again, his eyes glancing over the way Nasuada's back was arching back at a lovely angle and how her dark skin contrasted with the King, who wasn't pale to begin with. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, "yes, my King?"

"Fuck honour." Eragon's pulse jumped at Galbatorix's words, and he nearly jumped when Nasuada screamed, her back contorting even further. Eragon was quick to leave, slamming the door shut behind him. Galbatorix would surely forgive him for his un-dismissed departure, considering the King was currently preoccupied.

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**Longest chapter I've ever written with no scene breaks. This whole thing spans the course of a day, so by the time Eragon leaves Galbatorix to his new pet, it is probably nightfall. **

**I hope you liked it, as it took me a few days to write, and is about ten pages long :I See you next weekend.**


	66. Promises

**I've got the rest of the story planned out. I'll write another chapter next weekend maybe, about this length, too. Enjoy~**

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The city of Gilead welcomed them on the tide of high, hot winds with a sunrise. Summer was beginning, the monsoons from the south bringing warm, wet air up so the grasslands between Bullridge and Gilead could thrive and blossom with green once again instead of the dull yellow-green Murtagh and Caislyn had been watching for weeks.

Such a wondrous and welcome sight the city was after months of travel, even if the dragons had more to complain about than they. Saddlesores faded after the first week, leaving them with tough skin in places Caislyn had no desire to bear calluses in. Murtagh didn't seem to care, not that he really ever seemed to care, but Caislyn only had to watch him when he thought she wasn't looking to see what he was really thinking.

Their connection brought them close enough that it was uncomfortable to be separated, leaving them with the constant, itchy feeling of "I'm forgetting something" like when you leave your money at home and go to the market only to discover your mistake. Except the feeling was stronger, it pulled and clawed at their insides until the distance between them was reduced and they all but collided, desperately scratching at each other's shoulders in an attempt to embrace closer than they already were. Thankfully such separations did not happen very often.

Although, Caislyn had to admit, she liked the feral look in Murtagh's eyes when he lost sight of her for a while and then picked her out of the crowd. He always looked ready to draw his sword and start shoving people aside with the blade to get to her sooner. His arms felt strong when he pulled her close, but after the initial panic and longing was soothed with the simplest of contact, the man pulled away and went back to his usual bored demeanor, and even dared reprimand her about leaving his side. It made her feel like a child sometimes, and then she remembered she had every right to leave him when she wanted. Not _leave _leave, but she could sneak away for a little while if it would please her. It did on some occasions, but really the girl did it to yank a reaction out of the Red Rider, just a bit of passion to spark in his eyes and remind her why she let herself fall.

Such passion she only saw when they had someone to fight, his blade moving as an extension of his body. In fights, she watched him more than she should, but she could not help it. He heard her thought, no doubt, thinking about him when he wasn't looking or wasn't there to look at. More often than not they met with city councils together, but that didn't mean Caislyn paid attention all the way through. She toned in for the important parts, but otherwise leaned back in her chair and watched Murtagh out of the corner of her eye.

He was an interesting man, more interesting than most she met ―and she had met many men in her life. Murtagh carried all the stereotypical male attributes with him wherever he went: he was tall, he was strong, he was quick to anger, slow to laugh, he kept a hand on the pommel of his sword whenever he walked with her, he had to cut his hair regularly to keep it out of his eyes, he had big hands, broad shoulders, hair on his chest, he had to shave every few days-when he didn't he looked much older than his twenty four years. Caislyn noticed these things and stored them away, taking every little snippet as a sign of trust from him even if he didn't knowingly give them up.

But unlike most men she met, he seemed to genuinely care for her even if he didn't openly show it. She wasn't looking for dramatic gestures or overzealous confessions of love, as most young girls yearned for in their first husbands. Instead Caislyn was content to wait patiently and watch him unravel beneath her knowing, cheeky grins. He was an easy man to read once she was inside his head, which put her at an advantage over other women who sought after love from their partners. Murtagh was a man, but there were many sides to him she had come to know: a soldier, a gentleman, a maniac, a politician, a prince, a lonesome child, a lover.

_Murtagh, _she called to him, glancing over to where he sat atop Thorn. Their dragons circled each other lazily, relishing in the smell of new life below and the slow pace they could afford now that they had their destination within sight. Caislyn looked down at her hands, her leather gloves now worn after weeks of constant use. She ran her fingers over the horn of her saddle, contemplating her next words even as Murtagh watched them race through her mind, tumbling about in a mess. She had worries about their relationship, their tasks ahead, the city itself, the Elven force they were to meet head on, whether or not the city's people would like her, if she would lose him before the war was over, if she would die at the hands of Elves in a war she didn't truly belong in.

Even with all her worries, even though he saw and read them all from her head, in the end Caislyn did not speak of any of them. She simply asked _what is the city like? _Because she knew he had visited before and she wanted him to talk to her. Knowing he would not open up or speak freely about something more important, she would ask less serious and less demanding things of him, hoping to hear his voice.

_It is a fishing and trading center, primarily; that was its original purpose. But now it houses a fort, barracks, and the best prisons in the Empire and is the King's first choice to station troops for the northern front. _Murtagh offered, not knowing what else she was looking for. Gilead was made of stones both grey and tan, with red tiled roofs and staggering stone pillars. The people lived cut off from each other in sections, with walls meant to make it easy to block an enemy in one particular section should they breach the outer wall. Not that the city's citizens couldn't roam where they wanted, as that would cause much unrest in the orders of things, but the social implications where still there: the poor stayed with the poor, the rich with the rich. He knew the middle aged woman in charge of making sure things ran smoothly, Lady Mareen, and could appreciate her work. But Murtagh wasn't going to tell Caislyn all that.

_Okay… is it pretty?_ Caislyn did not wish to die in a dismal, ratty little city made of sloppy wooden shacks flung together in haste. Murtagh frowned, clearly thinking it over.

_Pretty? _He thought, letting her hear it in his head. _I didn't have much time to look over the décor last time I visited, _he beginning, thinking back to the first time he arrived, just before the Battle of the Burning Plains, where he only had a few days to take control of a field army of 100,000 strong and lead them to the fight. He had talked with Lady Mareen, eaten, slept, donned his armour and left on Thorn's back. _But… yes, the city is quite beautiful, if you have the right taste. It is nothing like Teirm, no great ocean or rolling hills, but when you climb the tower you can look out over the rooftops and watch the sun reflect on Isenstar._

Caislyn saw a few images flash through his head and smiled, then frowned suddenly, _why do the elves want it, exactly? If Galbatorix stations such a large force, surely they would simply march around it…_

Murtagh shook his head as their dragons descended upon the city, slowly gliding towards the outer wall then flying towards the upper portions of the city, planning to land in one of the courtyards. _It is a first line of defense. The Elves took it once, right after they openly allied with the Varden, and now they wish to try again. Most importantly, despite all the military power within its walls, Gilead is a cultural hub, one of the four largest, most populated cities in the Empire, along with the capital, Teirm, and Belatona. _

Caislyn, still not quite understanding military tactics the way she _knew _a Dragon Rider should and must, tilted her head to the side and gave him a contemplative look, wondering idly. _I do not understand these politics,_ she admitted as Aave landed beneath her. Murtagh simply shrugged in response, beginning to under the straps holding him into the saddle. Caislyn, mind still preoccupied, moved slower than he. _Really, why do Elves and your people hate each other? _

_Racial prejudice, mostly. They don't like how we live; we don't like how they live. They also don't like Galbatorix for his role in the Dragon War. _Murtagh slid out of the saddle and landed on his feet beside Thorn, who had lay down on his belly and happily stretched out in the sun. They had been flying for a few days straight, making the dragon's wings ache, so Murtagh didn't call him out on the lethargic, cat-like display.

_What happened during the Dragon War? _Caislyn asked innocently, watching from her vantage point as Murtagh undid the straps of Thorn's saddle and tugged it off the dragon's back. He glanced up at her, set the giant saddle down, and then moved to help her off Aave's back.

_The Dragon War divided the Dragon Riders of Old. The human Riders did not like how they were being treated, so they rallied against the Elven Riders. Galbatorix and Shruikan led the human side, and ultimately won the war. _He was not well versed in the texts like another young rider might be, considering he had always been a better swordsman than a student, but he kept to his studies and knew the basics of everything he was asked to. Sure, he skipped some of the older literature because it bored him to death, but the wars _did _interest him, so he read up readily. It had been a while since he read anything about Galbatorix's first war, so he felt a bit unsure of himself as he tried to explain to her.

_More racial prejudice? _Caislyn asked, eyes trained onto Murtagh's fingers as he began to pluck at the buckles holding her in her saddle, his own eyes on his hands.

_I suppose, yes. The Elves belief us inferior, I'm guessing, and that's fine with me. I hate the bastards just as much in return. _He glanced up at her again and helped her slip out of the saddle, hands on her waist as he set her down on the courtyard cobblestones. His hands lingered for just a moment before Murtagh let her go and returned to his own saddlebags to hoist them onto his shoulders. "Sleep as much as you want, Thorn, just make sure you get something to eat before tomorrow morning."

Knowing Murtagh would only wait a moment before leaving without her, Caislyn rushed to remove the saddle from Aave's back, kiss her dragon goodbye and receive a gentle hum in return, then snag her bags off the ground and trot after him and his long strides. "Why do you hate them so?" Caislyn asked, trying not to push _too _much, especially when Murtagh was so sour after spending weeks doing nothing by riding in a saddle.

"Personal vendetta, move on, Caislyn." The corner of her lips turned down in concern but she remained silent as he requested, instead focusing on the courtyard. The large wooden doors opened and an older woman stepped out, all poise and friendliness, prompting Caislyn to look her up and down. She was curvy but weathered, the laugh lines of her face showing in the midmorning light as it hit the skin of her face. Caislyn couldn't say she was stunning as some might, but she held a certain presence about her that made her seem appealing. Even to Murtagh, it seemed. "Lady Mareen," he said, a small, shy smile spreading on his face as the woman held her hand out and placed it in his, allowing him to squeeze her fingers gently in greeting.

"My Prince, it is lovely to see you again. And who is this exotic little bird?" Lady Mareen asked, looking at Caislyn who was almost hiding behind Murtagh, also peaking around him to watch her in turn. Her fiery red hair and mocha skin made her stand out, and Lady Mareen watched Murtagh's posture change when he looked over his shoulder at the young girl.

"This is Caislyn," he said, as if unsure how to introduce her. Usually he simply had other address her as The White Rider, because most people knew them by the colors of their dragons due to them being so few in numbers. It was easier than remembering names, and Murtagh didn't like being called upon by his first name like a child at the children's table during supper.

Lady Mareen smiled sweetly and offered her hand again, which Caislyn took out of habit. Of course, the poor girl didn't know what to do with it once she held it, so Mareen laughed gently and ended the awkward exchange. "Come, Caislyn, this is the first time we have had the chance to honour the White Rider in our city. Let us treat you to dinner, at least." When Lady Mareen turned and led them inside, their packs were taken by a pair of servants. Caislyn seemed surprised but not as frightened as she had been in when they stopped to rest in Dras Leona.

"You will be feasting with us, yes?" Lady Mareen asked, glancing back at the two. Murtagh nodded and Caislyn only stared at her with those wide, light eyes. Mareen smiled in response, "very well then, I shall have the cooks prepare something fitting."

"You don't need to trouble yourselves with our meal, anything will be an improvement over venison and bread," Murtagh replied, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at their diet.

"It's no trouble; the kitchen staff will be thrilled at the chance to impress you." Mareen led them all the way up the stairs and towards her office where she then sat behind her giant desk and gestured for them to sit down, the door bolted shut behind them. "Please make yourselves comfortable, we have much to talk about."

Despite the months of close contact and nothing but each other's company, Murtagh and Caislyn sat next to each other on the couch instead of one of them opting for the chair nearby. Caislyn was quick to stretch her legs out, and Murtagh's hands absently began to massage the muscles of her calves, mostly out of habit and the need for something to keep him calm. The girl certain didn't mind, curling up against the pillows to listen to Lady Mareen talk and Murtagh answer. No doubt she would drift into sleep a few times during their conversation, but Murtagh usually led the discussions anyway.

"What's the current state?"

"Elven forces are making their way from the North and down around Isenstar. Some are even using boats to travel, so we've made preparations to have the harbour ready in case. We don't want to lose all the boats to attack."

"Are you planning on using the lake for a limited naval attack?"

"At first, we considered it, but Gilead is not equipped with sailors, only soldiers."

Murtagh hated to question her plans, but he felt he must, if only for the sake of knowing the full extent of their plans. "What _are _you planning on?"

"The wall will hold, so we plan to fight them from the wall while a main force exits the gates and meets them head on."

"I take it you're using the box shields and the tactics specified by the King?"

"Of course," Lady Mareen smiled, nodding in reassurance.

"Good." And Caislyn did, in fact, doze off after that. She fought to stay awake, but their talk was so dreadfully boring, and Murtagh's hands so dreadfully pleasant on her cramped and underused muscles, she trailed away from the sounds of their voices. Next thing she knew, Murtagh was nudging her gently and picking her up off the couch like she weighed less than the pillows she had snuggled up with. Caislyn yawned and blinked up at him, confused, "Lady Mareen didn't want to bore you any longer."

Caislyn looked down, a bright flush displaying her shame. "I'm sorry, Murtagh, but-"

"That was very disrespectful, Caislyn. We're here to help, not to sleep."

Caislyn ducked her chin toward her chest and curled her arms in as well. "I didn't mean to…"

"Yes, well, you'll have plenty of time to sleep in a moment. We have a few hours until supper, which you _will _keep awake through, so maybe it would be best for you to nap now." Murtagh suggested, not wanting her to drop her face into her plate and embarrass herself further. As nice as the tint of red looked on her cheeks, he felt a bit bad when she held a blush in front of a room of very important persons, like the time she stumbled and he caught her, drawing the eyes of nearly thirty councilmen.

"Alright… what will you do?" Caislyn asked, looking up at the bottom of his chin as he walked, feeling the telltale turn of his torso when his hips moved with each step.

"Bathe, hopefully," he answered, not looking at her as he set her down in front of their door and opened it for her.

Caislyn scampered in and looked over the décor before spinning and answering him. "Would you like me to join you?" She wasn't sure his people approve of such practices, and she wasn't sure Murtagh even wanted to after spending so long in the saddle. She had already disappointed him by falling asleep when she shouldn't have, maybe she could make it up to him. It had been so long, after all, and any man was pleased after bedding a woman.

Murtagh paused in the doorway between the bedchamber and the bath, where the tub was already filled with steaming hot water for them to soak in. He seemed to turn the option over in his head, although she couldn't fathom why he was _thinking _about it. His shoulder shrugged once, just slightly, and Caislyn read the anticipation in his mind. She skirted after him as he shrugged out of his tunic and his belt followed.

It was a not a hurried affair, unlike their previous unions which left her panting in passion and trembling with want as he pressed her up against a wall and attacked her neck while rolling his hips against hers. Caislyn felt his hands ghost of her sides as he helped her tug her shirt up over her head and tossed it into the growing pile, his bare chest pressed against her back as he moved to undo her special tailored trousers as well. His fingertips are soft and teasing, only tracing over the bones of her hips before moving away and toward the full tub. Caislyn followed him quietly, and sank in across from him.

The water threatened to spill over, clearly meant for only one bather at a time, but that didn't stop Caislyn from sliding closer until her thighs rested on top of Murtagh's beneath the surface. He plucked the bar of soap off the floor next to them and began to run the bar over her back, having to lean forward to reach his hands all the way around her. Caislyn took the opportunity to kiss him slowly and raise her arms to wrap them around his neck, her breasts rising out of the water as she did so.

Murtagh took interest, the soap trailing over one side of her body and then the other, trimmed fingernails sometimes clipping her skin on accident. Caislyn hummed appreciatively at the attention and began to kiss his jaw, headed toward his ear. Most of their nights together consisted of bloody scratches and bruising bites, but for once when she reached his ear she did not try to bite his earlobe off. She giggled softly against the soft skin of his neck when his hands grazed over one of her ticklish spots. At any other time, had they been in such close contact, Caislyn knew Murtagh would have teased her for it, or said something sarcastic. Now, the giggling only pushed him to move his hands elsewhere to less ticklish but easily sensitive areas.

Through their connected mind, they wondered what had changed. Only weeks before he was pinning her to a forest floor of pine needs and dirt, boxing her in with his arms as his body slammed merciless against hers in one of their less than dignified joinings. She didn't fully understand how such an angry, hungry man could suddenly be so gentle, but she knew Murtagh was not faking the feelings that spread through him at the sight of her naked, and the warmth of her pressed against him. His mind was a little bit hazy, perhaps blissfully so, and his desire spilled into her mind and clouded her thoughts as well.

Murtagh slipped his right hand down between her legs and circled the bundle of nerves there, his arm pinned between them when her back arched into him and pressed her breasts to his chest. He listened to her gasp, smiled softly, and continued his ministrations. "Caislyn," he mumbled, and the name echoed through his head and into hers. He was giving her the reins for this one and though she didn't know why, she took charge.

Sucking a new mark into his collarbone, she lifted her hips up and dragged herself against him, listening to him stifle moans in his mouth and feeling his manhood twitch. She didn't want to rush this, knowing it would be the last time in a long while they would have time to give to each other, but she was also longing and impatient. Such conflicting feelings prompted her to advance and retreat, grinding down against him then pulling herself up and back. All Murtagh could do was keep moving his hands around, finding her sensitive areas and teasing them.

When his lips found her chest, her head tipped back and her mouth opened. He took great pride in being the one to give her something so powerful, his eyes up to watch her mouth words to the ceiling. It was enough to persuade her to lower herself down ―_finally_― and take him into her heat. He groaned for her then, hands tightening on her hips, and she hissed in return, wondering how she had lasted so long without this.

While it was true they had become closer, friendlier, and a more effective team, Caislyn had never expected Murtagh to treat her like his _wife _instead of his squire. She was overjoyed, of course, and let the feeling seep into his mind before his hips could start rocking underneath hers. He seemed surprised, and Caislyn was glad he knew this was no the appropriate time for discussion. They could talk about it later, for now, Caislyn drew up away from him, using her legs to lift herself up, waited a moment, staring into his eyes, then lowered herself back down. The friction made her eyes flutter, and she felt his arms wrap around her gently to bring her closer as she began to move at a steady pace.

As the water cooled and sometime before Murtagh lifted her up and carried her out of the tub, Caislyn bit onto his shoulder and closed her eyes, climaxing thanks to the hand between her legs and more the sensual feelings over anything else. Usually she got off on his aggressive behavior, and he on her rebellious violence. No doubt they would return to such antics once this was over, they both knew it, but for now Murtagh held her as he took over the necessary movements and finished just a few minutes after she. His head tipped forward to rest on the curve of her neck as they both caught their breath and kissed anywhere close enough to reach.

"We should probably clean up again," she whispered, a smile in her voice. Murtagh snorted softly, under his breath, and fished around for the bar of soap again. Caislyn took the chance to explore the sharper plains of his body as she washed him down, returning the favour from earlier. For once, the Red Rider didn't seem to mind the attention.

After that, Murtagh scooped her up into his arms and stood from the water, letting her wrap her legs around his waist for balance before carrying her out and setting her on her feet. She was reluctant to leave his hold, but stood still as he wrapped a towel around her shoulders, looking down at her in thought. _Are we going to die tomorrow?_ Caislyn abruptly asked, making him blink; it hadn't been what he expected her to ask

He leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers in a brief gesture of affection. "We might… but we'll try not to." Caislyn gave him a half smile then began to dry herself off. Murtagh followed her lead, dropping the towel back to the floor once he was finished. She took his hand and led him to the bedroom, headed toward the bed.

After so much time spent together, neither thought much of their nakedness, but they needed to find new clothes _sometime _before heading down to dinner. If they did not, conversations at the table would be tightlipped and awkward. Murtagh chuckled darkly at the thought as Caislyn tugged him onto the bed next to her. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered, uncertain of his reaction.

Murtagh let her curl up against his side, pulling a blanket over them to at least cover them up should someone want to come in. "You won't, girl, don't worry," he replied, nestling his chin on the top of her head and laying the side of his own head on the pillows laid out for them. "Is that why…" He hoped, quietly, that sadness isn't what prompted her gentleness with him in the tub.

"Yes and no," she whispered back, only half quelling his fears. "And now I'm sleepy again," she mumbled against the skin of his neck, smiling enough for him to feel it.

"Then sleep, I'll wake you up when we must prepare for supper."

"Promise? I don't think I should sleep through _another _meeting with Lady Mareen."

"I promise." He said, snorting softly before wrapping his arms around her possessively.

The manor was quiet, almost deathly so. Unlike the rowdiness of human house when when family members gathered to welcome newborns, dragons seemed to slow their pace and find themselves contented with the silence. The air was warm, countering the general coldness of the stone of which the manor was built upon. The sun was shimmering in through the open windows, which also made the home feel less empty than it normally did.

Saphira and Rhonny had grown used to each other's company and nearly no one else's. Not to say they were happy with just one another for company. They both missed Eragon dearly, and Saphira has been feeling exceptionally lonely as well. She had no idea why, thinking maybe it has the new thoughts of a non-existent mate brought upon by the cracks in her eggs. Something to do with that, surely… Then again, Thorn and Aave were many miles away, usurping her on her greatest chance at dragonkin, and she had no heard from Shruikan in a very long while. He contacted her for regular updates, of course, but Saphira didn't really count those short conversations as anything meaningful anyway.

If he wanted to talk to her, to keep her attention somehow, surely he would try harder. Not that Saphira wanted him to try harder, certainly not. She didn't mind the fact Shruikan never seemed to have the time for her, she understood it was all a part of his job, his role in the kingdom and in the war effort as the King's dragon and therefore a powerhouse for both causes. She didn't expect him to dedicate himself to her and her eggs as if they were still in their desert oasis. That would mean Shruikan was the adoptive father of her children and her mate.

The thought made Saphira shift with nervous energy on the cushion she lay upon, her previously stretched out form curling into itself. She was suddenly filled with a feeling, a trembling and chilly feeling that blossomed in her abdomen into a delicious heat, a feeling she had never experienced before. It made her feel immensely happy, and at once a smooth purr erupted from her chest. Perhaps, when Shruikan returned to her, Saphira would…

No, what could she even do?.. Ask him about it? What would she say? "Are you interested in me? Do I appeal to you?" She may be uneducated when it came to mating and companions in general, but she was quite sure females didn't ask that of their male counterparts. Her ignorance would not excuse her from the humility of such a conversation anyway, so she would never dare.

But she had no other direct options. Short of making a moveo n him, Saphira was stuck waiting. She had a long while to wait, as she had no idea how close Shruikan was to arriving. She doubted he would even return in time for the hatching of their- her eggs.

Even when he continued to contact her twice a day, she felt alone without his voice in her head, his mind connected to her own. There was always a certain level of intimacy to their conversations, despite the physical distance between their bodies, and she craved it moments after his angular yet soothing conscience left her. Saphira didn't understand the significance of such intimacy so she was left hoping Shruikan felt the same craving, hungry feeling she did. Maybe he could explain things to her. Too bad Saphira might never ask him.

Unsure of herself ―at least in this area of expertise― the young dragoness might let the feeling simmer for a few years before daring to chance something with him. Was she afraid of rejection? Yes.

Maybe it was with this fear in mind that motivates her to pause and consider herself. If she thought he might reject her advances, where was the harm? Why _wouldn't _she try something just for the sake of trying? If the black dragon thought it a bad idea, or did not desire her as she desired him, then at least she would know for sure and be able to move on instead of lingering on the same male her whole life.

There weren't many options available to her, of course, but in a few years she would have no trouble finding a mate. She wanted Shruikan, she knew that even when she didn't understand the full implications of such want between a male and a female, yet Saphira could acknowledge the fact she wanted Shruikan to help her raise her eggs, at least.

Wingbeats alerted her to the arrival of the male in question. The dragoness lifted her head, her eyes widening, and climbed to her feet. The hard scales of her feet made padding sounds as she slipped toward the door of her chosen den in the tower, craning her neck up and out to see, searching for his shape in the sky. His shadow passed over her, his wings stirring the ear around her eyes, and she blinked a few times before calling out to him. Her voice betrayed her, emitting a soft croon instead of a loud cry as she had wished. Saphira frowned, but happily found it still got his attention.

Shruikan swooped lower, circling the stone tower over and over as he slowed and finally stopped, throwing his great wings forward to push himself back and then touch his back feet down onto the ledge. The stone creaked, but he did not worry, and merely tucked himself in through the door. Saphira hurriedly backed up, leaving them face to face before she twisted away and went back to curl around her eggs as she had been laying before.

She heard his purr before he moved closer, dipping his nose down in official greeting before sniffing at the slowly breaking eggs, interested in the progress of the hatchlings inside. _Have they spoken to you yet? _

Saphira glanced down and kept her eyes on her paws in front of her. _No words, only colors and feelings. _

Shruikan hummed thoughtfully and moved closer again. _It should be just a few days now, they have nearly broken through. _He flashed his teeth and craned his neck forward to touch his forehead to his, the contact gentle and cautious.

Her tongue darted out between her lips and licked his chin, making the black dragon chuckle into her head and shakes his form as he moved out of the doorway and nudged the doors closed behind him with his tail. The sky had begun to darken with the oncoming night, and the deep rumble from outside signaled a thunderstorm approaching. There was a chance it would simply pass over them, but Shruikan simply needed a proper excuse, and he took it.

_It seems you are stuck with me for the night, blue, _he flicked his tongue into the air, making Saphira snort at the cheeky display. _Will you allow me to stay here? _

Saphira didn't want to second guess herself, so she answered him with her first decision. _Of course, _and it only took a minute for Shruikan to pause before he was moving to lay down beside her, keeping her side warm by laying between her and the stone wall. This left her closer to the door, but Shruikan quickly draped a dark wing over her side and nudged her neck with his nose.

_I am happy you feel at ease around me now, _the King's dragon said, beginning to rub the bottom of his chin against the scales covering her neck and the top of her head. Saphira could only hum in response, content to lay her head down over her paws and surrender to his affections.

This was what she had been waiting for, the close contact, the conversation, the affection. She began to hum, loudly, just for him, which Shruikan answered with his own hum in turn. He wasn't sure why she was so happy to see him, but he dared hope for the best.

_When do you leave? _Saphira asked, her voice soft as he continued his attention to her neck, purring all the while. He paused, just for a moment, then went back to work.

_In the morning I must fly to the capital and check up on things, but I will return tomorrow night…_He hoped to be spending much more time with her and her hatchlings once they broke free of their shells, and considering how the war fronts seemed to be winning according to plan, Shruikan thought it would be very possible he'd be around when the actual hatching commenced. _I won't be gone long, I promise._

_I hope so. _The sighed and leaned into his side, curling up under his wing. Shruikan hummed down at her, then lay his neck down next to hers, closing his eyes.

_I'll be here when you wake, blue one._

_I'll hold you to it, _she answered, and received a hearty rumble in return.

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**Another 10 page long chapter (it looks far more impression on a Microsoft Word document :/ Fanfiction is just cramping my style, man. **

**Anywho, another update next weekend maybe. Summer vacation starts in a week, which is good news for all of us! Buuuttt... that also means I'll need to survive my finals. Yeah :I See you in a week or so!**


	67. Uses

**Two more chapters and this baby will be finished. **

**Hope you enjoy~**

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Uru'Baen was a wonderful city during all months of the year, it was especially lively during the summer. Right before the families had to worry about harvest and preparing for the winter ahead, when the air was hot and the fields green, the fronts croaked in the ponds and the spellbugs lighted up the evening grass. The birds spilled their songs into the sky and the people drank and danced and warmed each other's beds. Mead ran, rumbling from tankards and dribbling from too full mouths. Bellies were full, children energetic, husbands tired by sated, wives happy. Coin purses swelled, pantries overflowed, and wine cellars were cracked open but never seem to run dry. Summer had swept into the capital city at full force, and its inhabitants cheered. Like was good, it allowed them to forget about raised taxes, conscriptions, the lives lost at Aroughs only weeks ago, and all the other casualties before that. The war didn't seem to exist, only life and money and mead.

When the King returned, the people cheered and flooded the gates to greet him with shouts of love, adoration, and congratulations. Shruikan may have landed and entered the great city weeks before, but it was the King who truly rallied the people and their spirits, despite how awe-inspiring the black dragon was. Humans respected and feared the dragon, but one of the main reasons Galbatorix kept his throne was the love is subjects held for him. Sure, a lord or duke might try to worm their way between Galbatorix and that love, which is how the rebellion started, but the King also possessed enough power to crush rebels. He was currently doing so, and reminding the people, with every day, that he had their best interests at heart.

So morale soared even higher upon the arrival of the King after a six month campaign in the south. The Blue Rider received hearty welcomes as well, and Eragon was shocked by such greetings. Surely not so many in the capital knew him by his face instead of by his dragon. He was usually on the otherside of the fence, where Saphira was showered with recognition while he could blend into the crowd without her around. Did he still look so normal, so ordinary?

He was not known for being a man, but a tool, a means to an end. The lords and their daughters loved him, as Galbatorix had planned, but the commoners did not know him, did they? He had never made any special appearances, and he was not famous for his skill in battle as his brother was. He was known for Saphira, for being a rebel, a turncoat, maybe even a coward. Eragon wanted to make up for his betrayal of the Varden even if he felt the decision had been a good one.

"Why do they love me? I have done nothing to help them, and have barely just begun to rewrite a name for myself…" Eragon was still stunned by their welcome. He reined his horse up next to Galbatorix, the dapple gray animal snorting in protest at the movement. After walking so long, even Eragon didn't want to move. How far had they walked, for many days? It had been a relatively relaxed pace, of course, because the army was tired and still large even after splitting it apart.

Troops had been left in Aroughs to aide the Red Fleet in protecting the city, but a good portion had followed the King north again. Two months to march to Aroughs, another month to conquer and settle the city back into Imperial control. Two weeks to track down notable Varden members and chase them into Surda. One week to propose negotiations with the southern state, another week for King Orrin to accept. Another two months of marching back to the capital; maybe in a few weeks the two countries would begin the proposed peace negotiations. For now, nothing but a few letters exchanged between couriers and crossed borders.

As it had taken seven weeks to the walk the distance one way, their northward march had taken eight. Eragon was exhausted from the strain; his backside was sore from the saddle. But, at least he knew the King a bit better after such a journey riding next to each other.

Galbatorix had kept Nasuada close as a personal pet, something Eragon didn't personally agree with but wouldn't argue against, especially not against the King. Men took mistresses just as they took wives, and Galbatorix wasn't married. Eragon didn't care that, nor did the idea of Nasuada being a trophy upset him. He did, however, wish Galbatorix would remember and be loyal to the woman he loved.

He had seen the King with Trianna and how they got along and, while he had no idea what went on behind closed doors, the Blue Rider knew the sorceress, the newest Black Hand of the King, had no problem keeping the King happy. She would make an excellent ―if a bit cheeky― Queen, should Galbatorix ever muster his courage and ask her. Who would refuse a King? Sure, he didn't have the best reputation but Galbatorix could give a woman anything she desired. He had all the power in the world, and it wasn't like Galbatorix was unattractive, which Eragon could acknowledge.

He just wished… Did the King really have time for a second woman? He barely had enough hours in the day to run his country; Eragon had heard him admit it. If that was true, then why would Galbatorix take on a mistress? Nasuada was beautiful, maybe that was all the King saw in her… after all, Eragon doubted two people could truly love each other so quickly.

Nasuada rode on horseback, set apart from the common rabble by the small but strong chestnut animal she rode. A gift from the King, no doubt, brought forth by necessity and Galbatorix's public respect for the young woman. He refused to make her a martyr, but did that warrant parading her through the city gates just behind the King and his left hand?

Yes, left hand. Why? Because Murtagh was the King's right hand, Trianna was his Black Hand, and Shruikan was his equal, not to be considered a mere helper, a simple instrument. Eragon, while flattered, had not been as amused as Murtagh.

Eragon believed that he himself should be the right. They King favoured him, did he not? He was less volatire, readily trusted, slower to anger, quicker to obey. Murtagh was better suited to less… proper and public assignments, despite knowing the correct manners of court. Eragon could sweet talk any politician or aristocrat Galbatorix threw him at; he had done it several times already. So why, being the obvious choice, was he considered less important and labeled as such?

No matter, Eragon would bring it later, another time. The King had turned his attention away from the buildings and crowds and to his left, where Eragon rode beside him. "You believe they love you?" Galbatorix questioned, sounding a bit skeptical and a bit amused. The King always sounded as such… perhaps it was a part of his charm; his pompous, suave, condescendingly smooth, playful charm. Perhaps that is why the people loved him, but it did not explain by they loved Eragon.

Eragon blushed at said charm, wondering if he was just fooling himself into thinking such a thing; Galbatorix sure made it sound that way. "I… hoped… but surely, my king, they are cheering for you more than I." He fell back upon trained habit, as he did after making a fool out of himself in front of his betters.

"No, they cheer your name, I hear it well enough. You ask why, I will tell you." Eragon leaned toward the King as Galbatorix paused to adjust his hands on the reins. "They love you because you were once one of them. Because you know their hardships, their worries, their aspirations. They love you because you were once tempted by rebellion, as many of them have been tempted. The love you because you are a symbol, a young boy -much like their own sons- who craved adventure, and despite this your returned home to your rightful place beside you King. And they love you because they believe you are their voice in a world ruled by the ruche and privileged, a world where the likes of them are exploited or forgotten."

It seemed, at least to Eragon, that Galbatorix had thought about such things quite a lot, maybe even with others to converse with. Eragon, flattered and confused beyond words, struggled to find something to say. "I… am I really that important?" He hated asking such questions about himself, especially asking them of the King, but after Roran rejected his apology and his help and seemed to want nothing to do with him, the very boy he grew up with, Eragon had been asking so many questions. He needed to now what he was doing with his life, needed to know where he stood… needed to know what people thought of him, needed to where be belonged and who with.

"Yes, and I want you to remember that, Eragon… I sense the tides have turned, and changes are fast approaching. Changes that will put a strain on you, your brother, Thorn, and Saphira. You are forgiving, new, green, yet to fall prone to destructive tendencies. It is your greatest strength, when coupled with your compassion, but be careful who you trust, and who you love. I will not always be around to protect and advise you, so I hope to leave you with enough knowledge and protection of your own." Eragon would indubitably always love with his heart on his sleeve, so he moved passed the immediate embarrassment and shyness building up in his chest and instead focused on the implied "I'm leaving" he deciphered from the short speech.

"My king… Galbatorix… I am young, I know it and hold no qualms, but trust me when I say no amount of advice you could possible leave me with could make up for your absence. You cannot be replaced, even if I do have a constant nagging voice in my head that goes on and on just as you do," his playful, almost shy tone made Galbatorix smile. His teeth gleamed in response to Eragon's compliment and sass.

"You will not miss me when I am gone," he asserted, wondering how much Eragon would persist with the idea.

"But I will!" Eragon exclaimed, his voice taking on a childish pitch. "I will miss you because… because I feel closer to you than own cousin, which I just now realized, and while I've only embraced you as my King for a little over a year… I have come to enjoy and relish your words, your guidance, and your company, casual or professional."

Galbatorix pulled back on the reins, his black gelding snorting softly at the command. He turned his green eyes to Eragon, meeting brown that shone with emotion and compassion. The boy was traditionally predictable, as was his brother, and now was no different. Galbatorix leaned over slightly and placed his hand onto Eragon's shoulder. He did not want to cheapen the confession by arguing, or even agreeing, so he settled for the simple gesture. "Go, ride to your manor and find your dragon. Her eggs are to hatch soon and she will need you there with her.'

Eragon glanced down, "will you not come as well? She will want you there also."

"I will visit this evening. I apologize if I miss the actual event, but I have duties to attend to before I may relax and celebrate peacefully."

Eragon could only nod, reaching up to lay a hand on Galbatorix's where it rested on his shoulder. "I will explain to them. Try not to be _too _late..."

Galbatorix grinned kindheartedly and Eragon watched the man's eyes twinkle slightly with the sunlight. "A deprive you of my company? Never. Now go, and enjoy yourself if you can."

The Blue rider would have to grab a fresh horse from the stables then head out, but he looked forward to seeing Saphira again after so long he could care less about the short wait. So excited was he that Eragon did not notice Galbatorix's eyes follow him as he swung his tired mount around and trotted away, nor did he notice the curious yet blank look Nasuada sent him as he rode passed.

-.-.-

"Bring a whore home from war, does he?" How typical of a man, giving in to desires of the flesh and lust like he had been away from his wife for too long and suddenly needed another woman. No doubt Galbatorix had brought the dark woman to bed and invested a great bit of time on her.

It seemed the King tastes had changed since he left her on his campaign to the south. Was this the only woman the King could persuade to lay with him? She was near black she was so brown, like the savages to the south and the tribes in the desert to the eat.

_How primitive, _such a beast, no matter how many nobles beds she warmed or how often, could not survive at court. Trianna couldn't bear the thought of constantly being forced to interest with the King's whore, knowing they were competing with each other for his attentions.

What could the appeal of such a woman be? He skin was like stained wood, much different from Trianna's own pale complexion. As Trianna watched from the second story windows of her personal bedchamber, her eyes narrowed. _Stupid nigger, _she thought automatically, her upper lip curling back. Her family had warned her about such people, those with bad blood who would take advantage of others to advance themselves. Poorly educated, halfwitted animals.

But how could the King fall prey to those types of theatrics, all some and mirrors. Women of no substance could not hold the attention of powerful men for very long. What lies between their legs, however, could entertain them for a short while until those goods were no longer appealing. No matter, if the Varden bitch wished to seduce the King, then Trianna had a head start on her.

"Trianna!" A voice rang, booming through the castle. Trianna flinched out of her thoughts, not sure if she was thrilled to have him returned to her, or if she should be mad at him.

If Galbatorix thought her upset, then he would not leave her alone. Then again, most men who weren't in love with their wives -wait woah, wives? Galbatorix was not her husband. _Shit, _Trianna swore in her mind, quickly turning around and sweeping her dress out from tangling around her feet. Galbatorix could not see her like this, if he thought something was wrong then-

"My pet, what is it?" The King asked, his hands immediately seeking out her own. Had she not been so intent upon hiding her emotions (and failing) Trianna might have smiled at the sweetness of the gesture and what it signified. For now, unfortunately, she cast her eyes down to her knuckles and thought for a moment. Galbatorix did not continue to pester her, as that was not his way. Trianna would explain when she gathered her thoughts, and he certainly wouldn't break into her mind for the answers.

Instead, he brushed his thumbs over her fingers, relishing in the gentle contact. For the first time in months he could look upon her, cast his eyes over her own, her cheekbones, her nose, her lips, down the column of her throat, across the expanse of her collar and to where her dress covered what was his. Simply put, he could not stop staring and did not care to anyway. He was a possessive man, there was no doubt in there, and she was his Black Hand, her servitude and loyalty filling him with joy.

"A king should not yell for his hand." Trianna tried, making no move to meet his eyes and instead tugging her hands out of his.

"You mean too much to me to contain my enthusiasm, my pet." Galbatorix let her go as she obviously wished, but followed after her when she tried to cross the room. After so long, with so much distance between them, why would he let her distance them from each other so soon? He wished to be close to her, as close as their bodies would allow, but he knew something was upsetting her. "Did I do something wrong?" He asked, his voice halfway between amused and confused. They grew up in relatively different cultures, it could just be he did something that did not agree with her upbringing. Hopefully it was something easily righted.

"If you love me so much…" no- no what was she doing- this was not part of the plan at all- she needed to keep her secrets and strike when the time was right for the sake of her cause and her people- she needed to be rid of him, not closer than ever before. But her heart yearned for her next words so much, she could not steep her mouth from continuing. "…then surely such feelings warrant some sort of title… I have no wish to be labelled your whore, and if I am to give you-" she paused to carefully reword her statement "-everything you desire, then do I not deserve some sort of recognition? I love you dearly, more than- I was brought to you by your dragon under the undeniable pretense of bedding you and keeping you happy. I wish to be useful to you, my King, I wish for you to love me. I wish to be your-" she stopped herself there, knowing she had come close to overstepping a boundary that was not hers to cross. No one could demand something of a King, not even one who shared his bed and held his heart.

"You seek the title of Queen," Galbatorix said matter of faculty. He did not seem amused in the slightest, and Trianna immediately shrank into his hold as his arms circled her. A display of submission on her part would save her in case he felt it necessary to erupt with anger.

"I do not mean to push, and if you do not wish me at your side I will content myself with serving you to the best of my abilities, regardless of what title I hold." She moved his hand underneath hers, guiding his fingers toward her stomach. It was not a sensual gesture, but a promise. Trianna was sure she would bear him a son, given enough time and interaction with him. She was ready for motherhood, after nearly a year and a half of knowing him, and with the reassurance he would support her with said child. It was her greatest wish, however, that said son would be his heir, knowing one day Galbatorix would step down.

"No, I quite like the idea of parading you around in the Queen's clothing. The lords and dukes have been asking for me to choose one of their daughters for such an honour, but I would much rather marry you, someone I love more than my crown." He began kissing her neck, brushing her hair aside with his lips.

Trianna smiled and cooed, knowing this was a great victory on her part. She would question him about the negro whore after reminding him of her love and devotion. Once he remembered how much better she was, there was no possible way he would keep the other woman around.

"Would that make you happy, my pet?" He asked, his hand slipping from her stomach to her thighs, fingers splaying over the fabric of her gown.

Trianna giggled, all thoughts of the whore gone from her mind. "Immensely, my King. I have wanted to ask such a thing of you for so long, and you left me with nothing to occupy my time but the memories of you, and what you do to me." He wasted no time after that, spinning her around and guiding her to her bed across the room, whispering praise of her beauty all the while. Trianna hummed in content and agreement but refused to follow complacently. Her nails but his shoulders, her mouth took his as his hands made quick work of the ties of her dress and hers liberated him of his own clothing.

It was then Galbatorix remembered the difference between a prisoner of war and a willing bride. Nasuada was skilled, but she was constantly terrified of him and it did nothing to excite him compared to the way Trianna pulled him close and moaned in his ear.

Their coupling was a passionate one, less violent than his unions with the dark rebel woman and certainly much more loving. Galbatorix became all too aware of the emotion that swelled in his chest at the sight of his woman sitting on his hips, her head thrown back and her hair tumbling down to tickle his shins. Very rarely did he let a woman ride him to completion, usually choosing to flip them and pin them to the bed. But then again the first time he bedded her she had taken significant control from him, and several times since then she has manipulated him until his legs shook and he was all but begging for release. Kings didn't beg, but gods sometimes he wanted to.

Such emotion at the sight of her only tumbled down to his groin, feeding the fire growing there. It was not his fault his thrusts came quicker as he pushed up to meet her, his hands on her hips not controlling but guiding, letting her hit the spot inside her. She came, loudly and wildly and passionately, her lips latching onto his, and continued to move until he was utterly spent.

Trianna grinned down at him, rolled her hips a few times, and started teasing him again. A second round was on her mind, it seemed, and the King could only chuckle, feeling himself begin to harden again.

Later, as they lay together under the sheets of her bed, Trianna couldn't help but sigh. The King shifted beside her. She laid one of her legs over his thighs and placed her hand on his chest then began to sift her fingers through the dark hair there. "My King?"

Galbatorix's eyes opened, glassy from their lovemaking but still intense and focused on her. "Yes, my pet?" His hand rubbed her lower back, easing the last of the post orgasmic tension in her muscles. Their session had been particularly demanding, desperation born from their separation only intensifying their need for contact and completion.

"May I be honest with you?" She was treading lightly, wanting to confess but not wanting to upset him to the point of irrational thought.

"I hope you always are," Galbatorix answered, valuing her honest opinions of him and his actions. He had Shruikan to distribute sass when needed; now he had a wife to remind him how to live as a human again.

"I'm afraid it will upset you..." She caught his attention with that, making him turn his head to look at her fully.

He looked curious and wary at the same time; Trianna rushed to console him. "It is merely a secret from my past, my King, it will not hurt you. If it could, I would not chance a strain on your heart simply to alleviate the strain from mine own. Please don't grow angry, I simply wish to share with you, as I will share everything with you as husband and wife."

Galbatorix nodded, still somewhat trepidation towards what she had to say. "Then share, my lovely wife to be, and I will compose myself and rein back any passion I find myself influenced by."

Trianna swallowed thickly, her fingers resuming their game through his chest hair. "Shruikan found me in Melian, as you know…" Galbatorix nodded, knowing this to be true. Not knowing if she wanted the interruption, however, he did not respond and stayed silent. "And I offered information in return for my life. He left me there, in a large cell room, for several months. I had plenty of time to plan. I was still working for Nasuada, of course, so I… came up with ways to bring about your demise. If I… could seduce you, get you close to me, , then I could work from there. That's why I had no trouble butting into your bedroom and inserting myself into your sex life like a common whore. It went on like that for months, the scheming and the sex and getting closer and closer to you."

Galbatorix's face slowly fell from curious to displeased, his brow furrowing. No one liked to know they had been used and played, leave of all the King. He shifted, obviously wanting to put a bit of space between them. Trianna grew worried and quickly nuzzled her face into the hollow of his neck as much as her position would allow. "Please, my King, do not be angry with me. I will you this because I want you to know how I came to genuinely love you, please." Even her hand on his chest could not keep him from sitting up and rolling away from her.

Trianna sat up as well, not caring about either of their states of undress. If he didn't love her as he often said he did, then seeing her naked breasts above the sheets might even help his anger as he directed it toward her. "Please," she repeated, reaching a hand out to him desperately, "through all those months of pretending I stopped pretending and began to miss you whenever you were not with me, I came to love you as a King, a Rider, a man, and a lover. I was no supposed to fall in love with you, m-my King, but I did, and if this upsets you then I will-"

"You will do nothing."

Trianna started, drawing her hand back to her chest. He paced away from her, leaving her alone on the bed as he tugged his clothes back on over his hips and his shoulders, straitening out the fabric but unable to much about the wrinkles. "P-please, Galbatorix, I did not mean to upset you."

"No, my Queen, you may not have meant to," he looked at her then, and she saw the hurt in his eyes. Trianna looked down, ashamed.

The King seemed to compose himself then, his voice regaining its strength and no longer cracking with emotion. "You are confined to your chambers."

Her confession must have struck him hard, but Trianna was grateful for the lenient punishment. "Of course, my King."

"You will have to keep yourself entertained until I forgive you. There will be a strict guard posted outside your door from now on. No one but the people I allow will be able to visit you. If there are any books you wish to read, ask the maid to bring them." Trianna blinked, unaware Galbatorix _could _be so easy on her of all people. She had, after all, just confessed to wanting him gone only months before.

"Yes, my King." Trianna bowed her head as respectfully as she could, determined to take this punishment of solitude with the grace of a future Queen. Her only worry was that Galbatorix would not miss her while she was cooped up in her own chambers, and instead turn his attention to that whore of his.

"In the meantime, I suggest you think up a proper list for your ladies in waiting."

"Of course," she couldn't help but beam, knowing the Queen's ladies in waiting were an important part of being royalty. "Did you…"

"Yes. Keep Caislyn and Rhonny off your list, and put Nasuada on it."

Trianna nearly chocked, "N-n"

"Yes. The rebel you used to work for. I have brought her home with me, and wish to keep her close for comfort of mind."

Trianna bowed her head dutifully, her mind whirling "Yes, of course." Galbatorix gave her one last nod and headed out the door, letting them bang behind him. Trianna gulped when she heard him bolt the doors shut from the outside.

She should have put two and two together, but she never would have guessed the one negro woman the King brought home, out of hundreds who inhabited the south, would be her old boss. Cursing her luck, Nasuada laid down on her bed once again, inhaling deeply to savour the smell of the King before the maids changed her sheets in the mornings. Her only hope, it seemed, was to keep Nasuada as busy as time would allow, so the King would miss her, at least for what she could do with her body. If he had no whores to occupy his time and sate his hungers, then surely he would miss her sooner.

Gritting her teeth with determination, Nasuada sat up and called to the guards on the other side of the door. "Have a slave bring me bathwater, and find the black whore for me as well!"

One of them shuffled away, no doubt, and Nasuada gathered a sheet around her to wrap around her bare body. She tiptoed to the window, looking out across the yard once again. It came of no surprise when she spotted Shruikan flying circles above, waiting for the King. Galbatorix was off to visit Eragon, as he had told her before she decided to be honest with him and mess everything up.

Her bedroom door creaked open and two servants toted in buckets of steaming hot water, headed toward the back room that held her tub. Trianna sighed and turned herself from the window, careful not to glare at the servants as they scurried. She did not want to leave without cleaning, however, so she cleared her throat and spoke, "change the sheets of my bed, and bring me green tea before my supper." As wonderful as the King's mouth tasted, she had no desire to sleep with him and then continue to taste his tongue throughout the night. Not to mention, she had bit down on his lip a little too hard and drawn blood, and could now taste the metallic reminder on her teeth.

The servants bowed obediently, "yes, milady."

Trianna's eyes hardened. "I am to be your Queen; you will address me properly or learn a harsh lesson."

"O-of course, your Majesty." Trianna strode into the bathroom, leaving to the two to quickly clean as do what was required of them.

She was halfway through washing her legs and feet when the guards announced her requested visitor. "Miss Nasuada, as you ordered."

"Enter," Trianna answered, leaning back on the wall of the tub instead of scrubbing in between her toes. "I'm in the bath, come here," she commanded, knowing Nasuada was awkwardly looking about her bedchamber, utterly lost and confused.

Nasuada's eyes widened when she stood in the doorway, hands hanging limply at her sides. She had heard rumours of the King's woman, but she had not dared hope it would be a friend. It didn't even occur to her that Trianna might want nothing to do with her. Her eyes watered and she quickly fell to her knees beside the tub. "Trianna!" She cried, letting her head fall down between her shoulders. She even went as far as to grin in relief at the sight of the magician who once worked for her.

"Nasuada… I had heard the King took a trophy of war, but I did not make the connection. Stand."

"W-what?" Nasuada stuttered, lifting her head and meeting Trianna's cold blue eyes. Surely Trianna was not against her. "Trianna, surely you-"

Trianna repeated herself, her voice stern. "I said stand! Do not make me summon the guards!" Nasuada, still confused and with relief that was now falling into fear, stood as commanded. Trianna looked her up and down critically. Her clothing did not flatter her curves. "Strip. I want to see what caught the King's attention."

"Trianna, believe me when I say I did not expect him to-"

"Oh I'm sure. You've always been naïve like that. What did you expect him to do, let you go free? He's a man, a man used to getting what he wants. Now strip, before I decide to let the guards have their way with you." No doubt some would claim Trianna was being cruel, but she needed to establish herself as the superior consort, not only to the King but to Nasuada and the whole castle.

Her blue eyes followed Nasuada's hands as the dark rebel tugged her sleeves away from her arms and let her dress fall around her ankles. She wore no small clothes, either not provided any or left bare like a whore for the King's convenience. Trianna looked her up and down, noticing with fascination as Nasuada's skin erupted with gooseflesh and the peaks of her breasts pebbled with the new chill. She was short, stockier than Trianna, perhaps Caislyn's height, with wide hips and small breasts. Despite herself, Nasuada suddenly recognized the appeal of dark skin. "So… this is what my husband has been using."

Nasuada's eyes widened. "H-husband?"

"We are to be married, just as you are to be one of my ladies in waiting."

"I don't underst-"

Trianna snorted, cutting her off. "No, you wouldn't." She stood from the tub, baring herself as a mirror to Nasuada's own body. She was satisfied with the knowledge her breasts were fuller, and her waist was trimmer, her legs longer. She considered herself superior, but she damned Nasuada for her good looks. "Help me dry off."

Nasuada stood, stunned into silence and immobility for a few short moments before she was spurred into action. Taking a soft towel in hand, she focused her attention on Trianna's back and shoulders, where the woman could not reach on her own. "Why am I here? Don't you wish me gone?"

There was no doubt now that Trianna despised her, but it was not her fault. Galbatorix had broken into her mind and taken all she had to offer, then he had spread her legs and invaded there as well. His touch had been rough and unwelcome, but not unskilled, and quickly her reactions had becomes her only defense. The first time she had not been wet enough, and she had screamed, but she quickly learned her place after he took her, which had to be the only reason Galbatorix used her in such a way.

"I do, but the King wants you close, we both know why, and I must do as the King says. Now you serve me." Trianna trained her eyes forward, elegantly ignoring the way Nasuada rubbed her down and dried off her skin. Unused to the attention and still quite pleasantly sensitive from the King's touch, Trianna stepped away when the towel dried between her legs.

"I am no threat to you, Trianna," Nasuada tried, letting her hands drop as she kneels and toweled Trianna's legs. Trianna rather liked having the woman in such a position, but had no idea why.

"It would be suicide for you to resist his advances should he come around again."

"I- he does not desire me for my body, Trianna, you must know that. My submission to his purely political, and soon he will marry me off to some lord for profit."

"You think I haven't realized that? That does not make you any better than a whore!" Trianna was, again, being cruel, but looking down at the dark skinned woman before her, dark brown eyes staring back at her, black hair tumbling down her back, Trianna felt involuntarily threatened.

Nasuada's eyes dropped; all the first gone from her spirit. "I know this… and it is why I ask you for protection."

Trianna snorted softly, "protection?"

"Yes, because it is your own interest that the King never touch me again." She remained kneeling on the floor in front of the future Queen, her hands on the floor between them. She felt Trianna's eyes on her, calculating, and found it hard not to stare at her pale calves. "I could be of use to you, as you know, if only you convince the King to let me stay here instead of following him to the Elven front."

"What should it matter to me? As soon as I give him a child my position as Queen will be secured."

"Do you really think so?" Nasuada questioned, wondering if Trianna saw the flaw in her plan. "Do you not want his love as well? Or are you sticking to the plan?"

Trianna hissed, taking a step forward threateningly. "There is no more _plan_; I stopped working for you months ago!"

"Then you will need me here. When I am by your side, I cannot be by his, yes?" Trianna cursed at her and stepped over her back, ignoring their nakedness and heading over toward her wardrobe.

"Dress me," Trianna ordered, wondering if Nasuada knew how to help someone dress properly.

"So I am to be your servant?"

"Slave." Trianna corrected, opening her closet and selecting something loose but modest for the evening. She had no plans ―it's not like she could go out anyways― so it's not like anyone would see her before she went to bed.

Nasuada's eyebrows popped up in surprise but she said nothing in protest. However, she could not help the friendly jest that came to mind. "What _kind_ of slave?" She was rewarded with a delightfully dark blush that overtook Trianna's cheeks. Nasuada grinned and stepped forward to help Trianna with her under-layers. In truth, the idea of serving Trianna in such a way was not unappealing, and it would certainly be worth it if it kept the King at bay. Trying to remain discreet, Nasuada slipped Trianna's corset up over her ribs, hands brushing pale skin as she moved behind the future Queen to lace it up on the back.

Perhaps in time she would prove _useful _to Trianna in other ways, but she needed to move slowly and cautiously as to not get in trouble. When Trianna was itching for release and the King was nowhere to be found, Nasuada would be there instead, ready and eager to help; after all, what better way to manipulate someone then through their own pleasure? Trianna would grow to like her, her emotions mixing with her lust, and then Nasuada wouldn't have to worry about her own safety any longer. If she was needed, they'd never kill her, never sell her off.

* * *

**Another 10 page long chapter for you. **

**Next Update: Next weekend.**


	68. Children

**One more...**

**Hope you enjoy~**

* * *

The King returned to them after only an afternoon at his castle, riding lazily on Shruikan's back as the dragon carried him from Uru'Baen to Eragon's manor. The black dragon had been reluctant to leave Saphira so soon after the hatching but he had licked her forehead softly, promised to return in record time, and then left regretfully. Somehow, Saphira had found it in her heart to forgive him.

Then again, Saphira had been doing an awful lot of forgiving in the past few months. She and Shruikan had made up completely, talked for hours and spent an excessively amount of time together. Shruikan was eager to make up for lost time, and Saphira could only hum and agree. Their closeness made Galbatorix question what would occur in the fall when Saphira's heat came around. Maybe nothing, considering she had new young to raise and said young wouldn't leave the nest for a few years.

Galbatorix let Shruikan pad off to immediately seek his blue mate; instead of following around the house, the King chose to make his way through the manor. He caught Eragon in the kitchen and smiled, "Eragon.

The young rider's head popped up from what he was doing, looking for something under the counter it seemed. Eragon then grinned, obviously happy for and happy due to his dragon. The elated feeling spread through the mental link Galbatorix knew. "Galbatorix! I didn't think you'd actually come"

"Of course I did."

"You seemed so busy," Eragon confessed, his eyes darting away for a moment.

The King only shook his head, "never too busy for you and Saphira." He had grown to like Eragon very much since he had met the boy, despite how much he had been sure they would class. And perhaps they had, especially at first when Eragon wasn't used to the way the King ran things, still used to working for the rebels, and Galbatorix was used to the complete and utterly impassive submission of Eragon's brother, not Eragon's own compassionate recklessness.

But they understood each other now, understood that sometimes Galbatorix had to make difficult choices for his kingdom, and sometimes Eragon had to make difficult choices for his heart. Sometimes they saw themselves in the other, despite their differences, which only strengthened whatever bond they had been nursing over the past year.

Galbatorix had no doubt the boy would do great things, even going as far as to leave Eragon a letter to read after his inevitable death. _Continue your studies,_ the letter read, _for your mother would want you reading and writing as a proper prince would._ The letter said a few other chores Eragon to complete and then a few sentiments as well.

It was the least he could do the boy, and his deceased mother who Galbatorix had loved dearly before she ran from him. He held no grudges there, blaming it on the spiritually nomadic nature of the beautiful and gifted woman. Selena had given him one son, after all, it would have been greedy of him to keep her if she wished to be free of him and his affections.

"Galbatorix?" The King blinked, realizing he had stood still when Eragon had made to walk with him to Saphira. He had made a spectacle of himself and flushed slightly with embarrassment, despite himself.

"Oh yes, come," he said, walking besides the boy to the back of the manor and to the door. He could hear hatchling playing in the grass, squeaking and chirping in the way only hatchlings do. The closer they got to the door, the louder the sounds became. Galbatorix couldn't help his smile, shaking his head and holding the door open for Eragon to pass through first; he was eager, but not without his usual courtesy.

Eragon walked out before he, then sidestepped to give the King a better view. Eragon grinned when he saw Galbatorix take in the sight of the two newborns playing in the grass between their mother's forelegs, much like kittens might.

One was a deep violet with tan lining her underside in the usual soft places of a dragon's natural armour. She was currently pinning her sister, a soft, almost smoky, green, to the ground. The purple was larger than her sister, of which Galbatorix was proud. He remembered when Jarnunvosk had her first egg, as did Shruikan. It had been a big day for them both.

Galbatorix thought back to this first dragon fondly, his heart aching and his mind carefully closed off from Shruikan's. It was the black dragon's proudest moment in a long time and Galbatorix did not wish to muddle with his own reminiscing.

Jarnunvosk had been his soulmate just as Selena had been, once. But unlike any mortal bonds, the connection he had with Jarnunvosk had been primal, safe, and unbreakable. Only death had torn them apart and even then Galbatorix had been completely willing and ready to follow her into the oblivion that awaited them. But she refused him that end, persisting he move on, so he had left her.

The separation had rendered him volatile, impassive to the point of self-neglect, and practically useless to the Rider Order. He hadn't cared, had no purpose. Many riders went on to live productive ―if not half-happy and sometime carelessly self-destructive―lives. Perhaps that is why Galbatorix had listened when Shruikan approached him about his Princedom.

They had been, and still are, a unique pair together. Shruikan, an abjured Prince of the Wilds, neglected and rejected by his own father and people due to the colour of his hide, yet eager to save them from the oppression dew stood up against. Galbatorix, son of Angrenost but not in line to the throne of the Broddring Kingdom of Men at the time, had forfeited his political and social status of Crown Prince by joining the Rider ranks, yet still held love for his country and it still very much loved him. As crazy as it sounded, they worked and continued to work this day when Shruikan's kind had long since fled the realms of man and chose their nesting grounds elsewhere, and Galbatorix's father had passed, leaving him to rule a growing Kingdom and keep it safe. They had done their best, the both of them, even if they had made a few mistakes.

Galbatorix looked up from the two little hatchlings, catching Shruikan's eyes. The black dragon looked so impossibly proud, so incredibly happy. They both stared at each other, smiling with their hearts. Yes, Galbatorix knew he could trust Shruikan to run things while he was gone.

The dragon would protest, but as long as Galbatorix left him with a purpose Shruikan would not fail. Murtagh would need the best guidance, and Shruikan would give it to him.

"Are they healthy?" Their safety was his immediate concern, and after that was assured, Galbatorix would relax.

_Yes, despite their extended stay in the eggs, bot girls show no signs of deformities, ailments, or mental impairments._

Galbatorix nodded, taking a cautious step towards the young ones. He double checked with their mother and Saphira bowed her head in acceptance. He was the King, after all, and Shruikan's rider. He could be trusted just as much as Eragon and Eragon had already tumbled about with her young, letting them climb over and lay on his body. His clothes had been ripped in various places, but no matter.

Galbatorix kneeled down, letting the two girls take interest in his hands and clothes, their noses prodding and searching. He smelt like sex, but there was no shame in that, even if the hatchlings were so young. "What are their names?" He, however biased towards Jarnunvosk's little purple daughter, wanted to display an equal interest in both girls. This was the first step.

Saphira hummed as both little ones rushed back into her embrace, more like foals in the way they had their limbs under _relative _control only hours after coming into the world. They cried and chirped, distracting their mother, so Shruikan answered for her. _Vireas is the green girl… The other is Freyja._

Galbatorix's eyes snapped up to Shruikan's, questioning, seeking answers. Shruikan looked down at his feet. _Named after…_

_In honour of a woman who inspired me, once… _Saphira clarified, terribly oblivious to the significance to Galbatorix.

The King nodded in acceptance, "hopefully she will honour the goddess." He looked the purple female over, noting her size and her features. Hopefully she would possess _half _the beauty of his beloved Jarnunvosk and, in time, half her wit, strength, and cunning. He frowned, knowing he would not live to see her grow to her full potential. "I'm happy for you, both of you…" The two new parents bowed their heads in thanks, and Galbatorix stepped away to give them their privacy.

"Eragon, I must speak to you, and Rhonny." The young woman looked surprised, but followed he and Eragon obediently up the stairs. Galbatorix had no qualms marching himself right into their bedroom and gesturing for them to sit on the bed. Eragon seemed nervous, confused, and Galbatorix could understand why. Galbatorix probably looked upset, but he was not; the King merely wanted to set a few things straight before he donned his armor and moved north to the front Murtagh was dutifully holding with Caislyn's help.

"It is likely I will not live to see the harvest," Galbatorix stated plainly, crossing his arms in a defensive habit he had yet to train himself out of despite so many years.

Eragon paled and Rhonny reached for his hand, the King noticed. "Galbatorix, don't-" but the king gave him a look that said _silence _and Eragon listened, quickly shutting his mouth and looking down.

"I have no idea how much time will be required of me at the front, or if I will even survive the next week. I do not fear my own death, but I do worry what will happen in my absence."

Eragon nodded solemnly in understanding "you need a messenger." There was hurt in his eyes, one Galbatorix felt deeply. In a rare moment, before he could think better of it, Galbatorix sank to his knees in front of the two soon-to-be-married lovers.

"I need someone I can trust to keep everything from erupting into complete chaos. I need someone to keep Murtagh on the throne in my stead, no matter how much her does not want to rule. I need someone who can keep the dragons from ever being mistreated again. I need someone who can keep my Queen and my child safe."

Eragon glanced at him, met his eyes, and then took interest in his own ands again. Galbatorix looked to Rhonny and smiled softly, reaching over to place a hand on her cheek and stroke her cheekbone with his thumb. "I need someone who can keep my children and their dragons happy." Rhonny's eyes closed, happy tears hidden as quickly as they threatened to escape.

Galbatorix placed his other hand on Eragon's cheek, holding them both tenderly, for the last time perhaps. "You are as much my children as my own blood, the son of my love-" Eragon swallowed and smiled pitifully, remembering the day Galbatorix told him all about Selena "-the love of my son." and Rhonny smiled turn, knowing it to be true.

"You are both in my heart. Even in all my decades I have no held many so close to me, and I have you, Saphira, Murtagh, Thorn, now with Caislyn, Vireas and Freyja." He leaned forward, pulling them both close and kissing their foreheads before letting them press their faces against his collarbone. "I do all of this to keep you safe. I admit my past motives had not been so holy, my methods questionable and disagreeable to most, but I want you, if anyone, to understand."

He refused to let himself cry, never at ease with the idea, but he felt wet heat prick at both sides of his neck and knew he would have tear stains on his shirt collar. He was only able to smile sadly at the thought. "Do no weep, my children, for I will never truly leave you. You will have Shruikan for guidance, and your friends behind you every step of the way." Eragon clutched into his pant leg, reminding him so much of a lost and scared child.

Galbatorix nudged them away, meeting their eyes and giving them a firm look. He was proud to see them bot regain their composure, getting back to business. "Murtagh is my only blood left in the world, the country will follow him and only him, is that understood?" Eragon nodded, astonished but now calm. "Shruikan is to guide him and keep him in check, Caislyn is free to be Queen if she wishes it. She's good for him, as Rhonny is good for you." The two smiled and entwined their fingers tight.

"I want some of the southern cities to go to Surda without complaint, should King Orrin demand them for peace. No more war, Eragon, no more conquest. Give the people a chance to get ahead. Try to support and stabilize the economy, as once can only do in times of peace and rest. I want you to take charge of the inter-class relations, keep the nobles from mistreating their vassals, and keep Murtagh from forgetting his compassion."

Eragon could only nod, taking everything in. Then Galbatorix grinned, "And I want you two to get married, you already have my blessing, and the Kingdom will throw a party to celebrate."

Rhonny chuckled, a pleasantly soft sound to further break the tension in the room. "The whole kingdom?"

"Yes, every single lord, peasant, mother and mule." Eragon laughed good-naturedly at that. "and I want you to have children, as many as your heart desires, so long as you resist the urge to name them all after me." Galbatorix earned another round of laughter with that, and he grinned wider, pleased.

Before he could move on, however, a conscious pressed into his mind, flooded with grim despair and half-smothered panic. _Galbatorix, _Murtagh projected, _we need you. Now!_

Galbatorix stood at once, making the room fall quiet. The beckon was sooner than he wished, but he would not delay. "My son needs me. Eragon, do not tell Shruikan where I am going. Lie, say I am off to see Trianna again. He will be angry later, but he has a family now and I will not let him die and leave them. This is _my _revenge."

Eragon couldn't think of anything to say, his mouth open gently and his eyebrows slanted with worry. He knew Galbatorix and Islanzadi had a personal grudge against each other for past disagreements but he hoped the King would not it impair his judgment or make his prowess in battle falter. It was likely sacrifices had to be made, but did his King really have to die?

But Galbatorix was gone, only a faint echo of his presence left behind. Eragon sighed and Rhonny squeezed his hand in comfort, a small smile on her face. "You had to know he was set on it… at least after you knew him better…"

Eragon stood and she followed him, supported him by standing by his side. "Come on, we have to tell Shruikan the King's gone."

"To see Trianna…"

Eragon frowned, "yes, to see Trianna."

* * *

As soon as they exhausted their arrows, Murtagh and Caislyn would let go of their spells and charge forward. Murtagh as -secretly, of course- terrified at the idea of letting Caislyn take on opponents in close quarters where there would be no where for her to run if she was overwhelmed. She was proficient with her little knives, yes, but Murtagh would much rather handle it himself and leave her casting spells from behind cover.

"I'm serious, Murtagh," Caislyn cried, frustrated with him, as she readied her first spell between her hands and let it fly when elves bursted in. Murtagh summoned the red glow to his fingers and only cast her a glance when it shot from his palms to the hall the elves were trying to march down.

If the Elves made it to the door behind the two Riders, they would have an opening into the third ring of the city. Murtagh couldn't allow that, but he fought to stay focused. "Your fighting style doesn't suite more than a handful of enemies -you'd be overwhelmed in a matter of minutes!"

Caislyn gave Murtagh a heavy glare, the sweat on her brow and the frenzy in her eyes only making the look appear even more aggravated and lethal. He was obviously underestimating her abilities, something Caislyn still did not understand about him and his mind.

"You know you're just lying to yourself! I'd be perfectly fine in battle and you know it!" She yelled back, double checking the knives up her sleeves before casting another spell. The Elves were coming in waves, sudden and sporadic influxes that key Murtagh and Caislyn on their toes. The elves were also catching onto their magic usages and planning accordingly. Soon, the two riders would have to charge and take their chances in melee.

Caislyn, no longer finding her spells effective with the wards the elves were putting up, started throwing knives. She would not get many of them back but it was necessary. "You have _never _fought in open combat!"

"You never let me!" She snarled, exasperated with his faulty argument.

"This isn't the time for for this! Focus!"

"We might die tonight, this is the _only _time for this!" She countered, but Murtagh had no time to respond.

Lady Mareen's orders rang out: "Fall back and hold the door from the inside. There are reinforcements waiting." The giant doors behind them opened; more of Gilead's soldiers ushered them in, holding off Elven attacks with arrows and lesser wards. Murtagh nearly dragged Caislyn to safety, letting the doors bang shut behind them. Fortifications were quickly set up, the door locked, barred and beamed, magic sealing it from fire and hostile magic. It would hold, but Murtagh knew once it fell his side would be slaughtered. There were not enough humans to overwhelm and they would never outmatch. They needed more soldiers… or other kind's of help.

_Galbatorix, _he made his mind reach out to the King's, _we need your help. Now! _He felt like a failure, unable to simply hold a city that was already heavily fortified against attacked and well equipped with archers and swordsmen. The barracks held nearly 3,000 men, not counting officers, and there were another 1,000 or so volunteers fighting as well. Murtagh, looking at his odds and the time that had passed since the elves arrived, blamed himself for the fall of the outer wall. If they had managed to hold that then-

_Murtagh, you did what you could, _Caislyn reassured, leading him further away from the door so he would calm down and focus. The distance didn't help. If anything, Murtagh turned his anger towards her.

"You!" He hissed, pressing her off to the side where few could see the confrontation. "You have no place in a fight, why do you persist on going into battle?"

"I was only trying to-"

"Distract me from doing my job?!" Murtagh seethed, grabbing her hand away from his arm and forcing it back against the wall behind her. Caislyn glowered but he continued. "Make me worry about your safety when I should be focused on my own? You could have gotten us _both _killed, along with the men counting on us!"

Caislyn continued to glare at him, impatient for her chance to defend herself. "Why do you have to be so bullheaded? You won't even listen to me! You have me pressed against the wall and won't let go of my wrist! Can we cool it with the abrupt displays of dominance, no one cares," as critical as her words were -she sensed he hadn't meant it as a show of power- they convinced him into letting her go.

She rubbed the tendons of her wrist, taking in Murtagh's ashamed expression, before lowering her voice into a softer tone. "Why won't you let me fight, Murtagh? You know I'm capable, and I could help you…" She sensed his worried but wanted him to have a chance to voice them before fishing through his mind and making assumptions.

Murtagh paced slightly in their small alcove, their actions hidden by a manmade barricade. He had always had trouble with words, especially when trying to express his emotions, but he trusted Caislyn -a startlingly acceptable notion in itself- to figure out what he meant. "I… you could get hurt."

"All soldiers get hurt," she countered, but her voice was non-threatening and completely un-hostile.

"Yes, but… not you. You can-t-I won't allow it, dammit."

"You… won't allow it…" she prodded, curious about his choice of words.

"Yes, because what hurts you hurts me!" Briefly, Caislyn considered their connection and the transfer of pain-pleasure from one body into the other's. Then, his own mind shove her thoughts away and his thoughts bombarded her in a torrent of _-not Caislyn, too important- not allowed-too precious, too dear- too small- no- can't lose her- won't lose her- refuse-save her- keep her safe- too important- love her- family- will not allow-too much pain- too close — too dear-_ almost as if he was fighting through a nightmare and fighting himself the whole time.

Caislyn stared, watching Murtagh fidget and place his hands on the pommel of his sword over and over. "Murtagh…" When she reached out to touch him, Murtagh nervously shrugged her off. Caislyn tried again, this time grabbing onto his arm and holding on tight. He spun to face her, looking everywhere but her face. Caislyn was having none of that.

"Hey… look at me." He couldn't resist her voice, and so he met her eyes, still ashamed of himself for letting the city fall, and bruising her wrist. "You will _never_ have to worry about losing me. Where you go, I go. You can't get rid of me even if you try."

"But if you get hurt-"

"Then I get hurt, big deal. You'll be there to save me, right?" She leaned up on her toes to get closer to his face, placing her spare hand on his cheek. "You'll always be there to save me…" she was whispering but Murtagh didn't seem to notice, simply staring into her eyes the best he could while their foreheads were pressed against each other, lips touching but not moving hungrily like usual.

And then she hugged him, knowing somewhere in the back of her head they needed the contact, needed the reassurance and the raw closeness that only the other could provide. His heavy armour pinched her clothes but she found herself not caring, not with his arms holding her tightly and desperately, his breath on the top of her head.

Then there was silence. Caislyn forced herself to open her eyes at the lack of noise, knowing something had to have changed. Murtagh also frowned, and when they stepped away from each other to investigate they saw why: the King.

Galbatorix stood in the middle of the room, armour pulsating with veins of purple across black, fractured shards of magic summoned around his fingers and crystalizing them in glove-like protection. When he spotted them, Galbatorix motioned them closer. Caislyn was quick to dart after Murtagh's long strides, and was genuinely surprised when Galbatorix embraced them both into long arms: the King never showered Murtagh such affection.

"I am here to answer your beckon. My apologies for taking so long." Murtagh couldn't find the words to answer, his mouth opening and closing a few times, so Galbatorix continued. "Now, I expect both of you to saddle those restless dragons of yours and start bringing hell upon the front lines. I've entrusted a dozen Elundari to keep your wards. The rest of them are to help me."

Caislyn stared at him, curious and frightened, "help you do what?" She whispered as if no one else was supposed to hear.

"Slay a queen, of course. Funny how the tides of turned, too. In chess, the Queen is your most powerful piece. Not today, it seems." Galbatorix seemed oddly relaxed for a man about to face one of his greatest challenges.

Again in a whisper, Caislyn asked, "are you afraid?"

Galbatorix looked down and cupped her chin softly, smiling grimly, "no, my dear. I do not fear my death… I do, however, fear yours. Do no get yourselves killed, I will not allow of it. My heir and his wife _must _survive the war. Did you hear that, Mareen?!" His voice suddenly boomed through the room, announcing it. "My son and daughter-in-law will not die tonight, nor any other night, until they are both old and happy!"

He started to disappear, a slow transfer of his body from one place to another, as if to hang onto the sight of them for a moment longer. "Don't let Eragon beat you in children. Make my grandkids the best." And then he grinned, "oh, and name one after me."

He winked, Murtagh reached forward as if to grab him, desperate for answers and for a proper goodbye, and then the King completely disappeared. Murtagh and Caislyn were left standing there, stunned to silence, staring at empty space.

* * *

**Not quite my more recent quota, but still a lot of writing. This is the second to last -for anyone still reading- then this baby is done. I cannot wait to more on to other projects~**

**Next Update: Next weekend.**


	69. The Colours of Change

**Last one ever. Enjoy!**

**Anyone else find it amusing I'm ending on the 69th chapter? No..? Okay, just me. **

* * *

"He's not dead! The King- Galbatorix- he doesn't die! He can't- no!"

The news of the victory in the north spread quickly, trickling down the map with the same speed and ferocity of a wildfire. King Galbatorix was dead, but so was the Elven Queen and half her forces. No one knew how, no one questioned it, it simply was. Those closest to him mourn, or found themselves in denial. Murtagh refused to lose the man when he had just found out his true parentage, and he screamed him refusal to the heavens, his rants voicing the disbelief of Shruikan, the King's dragon, who remained in a wistful state, half of his conscience gone but not quite… dead.

_Half the city saw the blast, and the other half saw what little remained after, _Shruikan reminded him, his voice low but not without power. The dark dragon was thinking, rapidly and randomly, following trains of thought no mortal mind would ever be able to track and trace. He wanted to believe Murtagh's side of the story, but he needed evidence of Galbatorix's continued existence to believe it. So he withdrew his mind from the conversation and left them to it, receding back into his thoughtful shell where he lay on his cushion in his room.

"They didn't find a body."

"They didn't find _any_bodies,"Eragon countered, his voice solemn. "He unleashed enough raw power to decimate two-thirds of DuWeldenvarden and render it to rubble and moss-"

Murtagh paced, his nervous habit in full force in front of the empty throne, the room vacant and silent save their own voices. No one felt comfortable without Galbatorix sitting there, relaxed yet attentive, playing the mediator through their arguments. It was unnatural, unconventional; they could barely stand it. "Exactly, yet somehow he managed to contain it to a on a thousandth of that scale. Something's not right."

"The death of the King is… sad, yes, but I told only a small part of what he wished to be done once he was gone, and we need to focus on other matters now."

Murtagh turned on him, enraged, "how can you say that? It has been naught a week and no you are saying his death does not matter!"

Eragon stepped forward, dark rings around his eyes showing how much Galbatorix's death had really affected him. He was tired, exhausted really, and weighed down with immeasurable amounts of guilt. "I'm not saying it means nothing; it means everything. But the people need a King, and he named you his heir."

"Bah, bastard son of the King that was not Prince but the day he charged into his own death? My crown means shit."

Eragon now felt personally insulted and he spat venom. "_You _are shit, merely for thinking this way! He crowned you in his wake because he thought you worthy and capable, now you spit on his gift like a _true _Prince, shallow and selfish since the day you were born."

"Oh that's rich, Eragon. The golden boy since you arrived, feeling wronged because daddy dearest didn't name you the King instead?"

"No!" His face dropped, more concerned than angry now. "Murtagh, you know you are the one fit for the title, I do not wish to take it away from you. We are equals, always will be, but not in that right. I- you know I am barely able to read and write, how would I even begin to run a kingdom? I'd do my best, but I am too… too kindhearted, too trusting."

Murtagh relented slowly, letting it all sink in under his skin until he understood what Eragon was trying to say. "They will never follow me. In order to gain their full support I would have to marry someone's daughter."

"They will follow you. You are already taken, but it is not unheard of to offer your children up. Simply keep them close, raise them as you want, and then you will never have to fear losing them to foreign families and frivolous caste wars."

Murtagh snorted, placing his hands on the windowsill on the far wall, "I see why Galbatorix liked throwing you at politicians. You _are _devious," he turned to see Eragon grin, his white teeth glinting in the light of the room. "I'm keeping you around, I hope you know. You are, technically, my brother, which makes you next in line until I have a son."

"Or a daughter."

"I don't think the kingdom is ready for something _that _revolutionary, Eragon."

"You never know."

"Well, if I did have daughter, you better be offering up a son for marriage."

Eragon joined him by the window; his arms crossed casually, "wouldn't that be a bit taboo? They'd be half cousins."

"Who cares? Everyone's marrying their cousin nowadays."

It was Eragon's turn to snort. "Oh? Is that one of the trends you picked up on while travelling?"

"As a matter of fact… no, you see it in the King's court though." Murtagh shrugged at Eragon's look. They shared a pause, looking out through the smoky windows down on the castle courtyard and the capital city still in mourning of the King, with the wealthier wearing small bits of purple in honour of Galbatorix's favourite colour, and the poor wearing traditional black. Stores closed for one day, but Murtagh was quick to allow them to reopen, knowing such a complete stop in trade would kill them financially. "Purple, so much purple; it's one of my least favourite colours, Eragon, I dislike it so much. What should I do?"

"I politely suggest you stop whining and start liking it, my King."

"Do I have to punish you, little brother?"

"Heavens no, that is no behaviour fit of a King."

"Alright, alright, drop the 'King' thing." They went back into silence again, but this time they both turned away from the window and stared at the floor, leaning back on the wall in thought. "Do you really think I can do this?"

"I wouldn't be standing next to you if I didn't believe you could, Murtagh. I'm not an idiot, following a bad king would ruin the kingdom."

"So you'd kill me instead?"

"Naw…" Eragon thought about it, trying to figure out what he _would _do. "I'd… I might just leave. Or I'd start my own country." Murtagh glanced at him, wondering if he was joking. He was not, and Murtagh knew it.

"Well that's a relief, I guess…" They moved away from the wall, heading for the door exchanging worries and reassurances until they went silent again, simply walking next to each other.

They were the two most powerful men in the Kingdom now, the King and his new Right Hand. Eragon didn't know what to think about the promotion, but he accepted it without hesitation. Murtagh would need him through this, and he was determined to be there.

"But seriously, purple really isn't my colour." Murtagh whined, and Eragon just laughed at him.

* * *

Trianna looked out her window, a frown plastered onto her face. She was in a precarious position. The King's death had brought her a bit of trouble, you see. With no high standing family to back her position, she was alone with only Nasuada fighting with her. The ebony skinned former rebel turned slave had become her friend, or the closest thing she could afford to such a relationship. They needed each other, as Nasuada would most likely be sold off somewhere and Trianna would undoubtedly fair no better. If they were lucky, they would escape with their lives and be free to find themselves someplace to live.

Trianna was manipulative and greedy most of the time, but she had truly loved the King, had wanted to marry him and give him children, and grow old surrounded by said children, immortal like their father or no. But pushing her luck when no one alive and in power held any love for her at all was a sure way to get herself killed. With no allies, she was alone, terribly unprotected, and she knew it.

So she would have to beg. She knew someone would come to her chambers eventually, demand her to defend herself and explain her involvement to the King. Her only hope was it was one of the female riders, who might have a tamer disposition and might understand her "woman" troubles easier, or Eragon. Eragon enjoyed her company well enough, they had practiced spells with each other once or twice while Galbatorix had been away or too busy, or them both bored out of their minds. If Eragon was deciding her fate, she might be able to prove useful.

She could teach children spells, which they might like. There were surely going to be more and more young riders in the next ten or so years and they would need teachers. She had led a group of spellcasters for Nasuada once, even though she had felt it beneath her, and Trianna could do it again.

Turning herself away from the window, Trianna sighed and met Nasuada's eyes. "And how will you make yourself useful to them? What can you offer?"

Nasuada blinked then shrugged, appearing completely at ease. "There is no King for me to offer my body up to, no lord kneel before and bare my breasts to. I am a rebel, the rebel leader, in fact. Perhaps someone will buy me as a prize and treat me decently until they grow sick of me, or I grow too old. After that… I do not care to know. Maybe I will die honourably, with the new King lowering his sword to my neck. Maybe I will become a whore and work in the capital."

Trianna didn't like any of the options, the lines of her face growing sharper as her frown grew deeper and her eyes narrowed. "You would lower yourself to such a profession?"

"I don't think I'll have a choice," Nasuada snorted with no mirth, leaning back on Trianna's bed and closing her eyes. "You grew up differently than I, Trianna. I had my father to protect me, but I always thought that once I reached womanhood I would be traded off to a neighboring tribe and raise a family with whatever man they placed me with. It wouldn't be the _best _fate, of course, but I never loathed the idea entirely."

Trianna rolled her eyes in contempt, choosing to ignore how at home Nasuada looked surrounded by her pillows and sheets of lace. It was not the woman's proper place, of course, but as Trianna grew more and more frenzied and anxious, the lines between slave and ally blurred enough for tension between them to ease and a twisted friendship to take its place. "Maybe they will let us simply leave."

"They're more likely to behead me, my dear."

"Be quiet," Trianna said sharply, refusing to hear anymore from her. "I will not them kill you, not after the King made it clear you were to stay alive."

"For his pleasure."

"I said be quiet!" Trianna seethed slightly beneath the surface. "I'm trying to save you, there's no need for you to keep broadcasting your_ uses _just to remind me how my fiancé bedded you some nights instead of returning to me!"

Nasuada shrugged again, nonchalant and indifferent.

"Have you resigned to death, or something equally pitiful?"

"I- no, of course not, I want to live just as you do. I'm simply trying to remain realistic."

"You keeping your head attached to your shoulders is not unrealistic."

"No, you're right, but they could hang me instead of lopping off my head, and I'd still be dead with my neck intact."

"I cannot believe you," Trianna huffed, wrapping her shall tighter around her shoulders and crossing her legs beneath her dress, sitting on the chest at the foot of her bed. She heard Nasuada shift on the bed and crawl closer until she could hear the slave breathing and felt it on the back of her neck where her hair did not cover her skin. "You're insufferable," Trianna muttered as Nasuada brushed her hair aside and started placing soft kisses on the nape of her neck.

Trianna huffed again but made no move to stop her, not even as she felt the back of her corset being slowly undone and peeled away from her skin. They had done this only a few times before, mostly because the King left Trianna alone to her own devices for long periods of time and she had no clue he had died the same night he had left her. It had been convenient because Nasuada apparently knew what do just like a man did, which Trianna only half understood and didn't care to guess at, and she was there.

Trianna's breath hitched when cool fingers, slender and un-calloused and not all like a man's, stroked down her sides before slipping around to her front, trailing up from her navel to her breasts and loosening her corset further all the while. Her back arched, but there was nothing for her to rub her backside against, her tailbone only making contact with Nasuada's pelvic bone and her hips brushing against the woman's inner thighs. It was strangely erotic, being with another woman, and also taboo. Trianna tried not to overthink it, and let her mind go blank when Nasuada plucked her nipples until she was panting and gasping. It didn't make sense, and they would probably get themselves into trouble for it, but Trianna didn't care at that moment.

Somehow she lost her dress but not her stockings, leaving her bare from the waist up as she leaned back against Nasuada's chest and twisted a hand into the slaves hair, Nasuada's own hands preoccupied between her legs. Nasuada may not have stopped when a knock sounded at the door, but Trianna froze in place, her mind frightened back into clarity. "N-nasuada, stop. There's someone at the-"

"Come in," Nasuada called out, and the door opened before Trianna had a chance two twist out of her grip and cover her bare body with the blankets. She screeched, the sound interrupted with a hitch in her pitch when Nasuada's fingers pressed down on the nub between her legs. Her body convulsed even as she prayed no one had actually entered the room.

Nasauda just grinned over Trianna's shoulder, kissing the pale flesh there before she said anything. "I told you she was willing." Her words made Trianna open her eyes again, barely able to control her squirming long enough to see Murtagh standing there, arms crossed over his chest. Nasuada leaned down to her ear, "just an hour and we can be free for the rest of our lives," and suddenly the situation became very clear to her.

It was an interesting way for him to deal with his father's lovers, but she couldn't fault him for taking advantage of the scenario. Hadn't Murtagh fancied Nasuada at one point in his life, in the belly of the Dwarven mountains? Maybe that's where this all started. Trianna wondered if Nasuada and Murtagh had been slipping away with each other since she had arrived, which wouldn't surprise her in the least.

Still panting slightly, a blush blooming onto her cheeks as the young King looked her over and appeared pleased. She spread her legs a little wider, beckoning him forward. If what Nasuada said was true, and Murtagh hadn't just lied to the slave, then this was her only chance, correct? Murtagh stepped forward, undoing the belt that held his sword on his hips, and then crawled toward her on the bed.

What about that foreign whore Galbatorix had paired him with? They shared a bond, did they not? Something like that, she had overheard Eragon talking about it once. Murtagh did not move like a guilty man, however, as he pitched himself forward and _bit _her chest, leaving red marks in his wake as he moved from one breast to the other. Trianna began squirming around again, edging closer and closer to her release but denied it due to the lack of friction she was receiving below.

To be honest, Trianna had never experienced _two _partners at once before, but everything seemed to go quickly, as if she could barely keep up her mind was so foggy with arousal. She kept making her needy noises as Murtagh flipped her onto her knees, pressing into from behind. Nasuada began kissing her at one point, sliding under her to lay beneath her and help her along with a hand between her legs. She climaxed, strong and quick and twitching all the while, and had enough time to find her peak again before the Red Rider pulled out and spilt onto her back.

It didn't surprise her, even as she was let go and rolled to lay beside Nasuada, that the man hadn't even bothered to take off his pants and instead simply laced them back up before heading for the door. Quick and dirty business it was, but Trianna didn't object to the change of pace, still panting and watching him from her place on the bed as the new King buckled his sword to his hips and turned his head to look them both over.

"Leave before the day is over, if you're smart. You're on your own as soon as you leave this castle." Murtagh didn't give them a goodbye before opening the door. Trianna heard little from the other side, but she knew the two guards always standing outside their door were just standing, knowing and judging. Not the King, of course, but they would receive dirty looks when the left. "If I ever have trouble from either of you ever again, I will not hesitate to get rid of you," he declared, knowing how pesky loose ends could be.

He left, and Trianna let go a sigh she didn't realize she had been holding. "How did you-"

"After all this time you still think men are loyal to their wives if presented with an opportunity?"

Trianna didn't ask any questions after that, and let Nasuada help her redress. They had to pack for practicality, but Nasuada also snatched Trianna's fine jewelry to sell later. Trianna would throw a fit, no doubt, but Nasuada would slowly teach the girl the way of living as dirt, which the spellcaster seemed to have forgotten after a few years as the King's little pet.

They left as soon as they each had a pack, and stole from the kitchens on their way down through the servants passageways. Hopefully, they would be out of the capital before dark.

* * *

Caislyn was hesitant to approach him even after everything they had been through together. They had made great strides in the past few months but now Murtagh was under a lot of stress and probably in no mood to play nice with her. So she took her morning bath alone, and when she returned to the bedroom they shared her husband was gone without telling her where.

The war was far from over, but now that they were not on the front lines, Murtagh wasn't so protective of her, it seemed. Caislyn frowned, slipping into a loose red dress that suited her hair and was Murtagh's favourite colour, hoping he would pleased with her appearance. Usually she didn't tiptoe around anything with him, she loved him after all, but while a few weeks ago she had been unafraid of his temper and even looked forward to his outbursts that usually led to aggressive unions between them, Caislyn had to worry about another life now.

She laid her hand over her stomach in worry, letting her frown part from her face only to be replaced with a hopeful smile. All men wanted children, of course, but with everything going on, a child would either bring them closer together or tear them apart completely. Murtagh might not have the patience for it, he might be too stressed. It might be too soon, just named the King of the most powerful nation this side of the sea and suddenly he would have the heir he needed?

Regardless of what his reaction would be, Caislyn would not be cast aside. She made her way to the dining hall where she and Murtagh commonly ate together, but usually he was late just coming to see her after his morning meetings, and then he often had to eat quickly and leave early. She saw him in the evenings, at least, but Caislyn looked forward to taking a more active role in his life.

Shruikan had suggested she be named Queen, given it was only logical, but Caislyn had yet to hear Murtagh's opinion on the matter and therefore kept quiet. Galbatorix had taught her well, after all, and so she snuck around, learning bits and pieces of what she could. Maybe she would become Murtagh's Black Hand, as the position seemed much more fun than that of Queen. Of course, it was also more dangerous, and Murtagh would probably refuse it.

_No matter, _she thought, smiling to herself and glancing down at her stomach once again, _I am with child, _and that would keep her in Murtagh's good graces, and it would also appease many of the nobles who once pressures Galbatorix to take a wife. And through her, Murtagh had solid ties to the Red Empire as well, should he ever need to call upon them again. She was of no high standing, of course, but she was still of the Red People, and they would not abandon her here in this strange land with only a handful of friends, especially not when she had a dragon under her saddle and connected to her mind.

Aave was thriving, if anxious and full of pent up energy, with them no longer flying from place to place. Rumour was she dragged Thorn out for flights above the city, and Caislyn would not be surprised if they spent their free time together out of habit. Thorn had a sweeter disposition than Murtagh, and he never failed to make Caislyn smile. As far as she knew, Shruikan was still training them both, but Aave mentioned something about him preparing them for adulthood as well, which left the whole dragon population very pleased. With Saphira's eggs hatched ―two little girls that Caislyn had the pleasure of meeting and playing with― Aave and Thorn seemed to be eager to adopt two of their own.

Caislyn was looking forward to it, considering the blossom of new life a good omen in their lives. Galbatorix had left them, yes, but in his wake came three new souls and soon to be many more. He had been a decent man, and Caislyn would miss his never ceasing, harmless flirtations, as well as his guidance.

Murtagh, for once on time and already seated when she entered, glanced up at her when she sat down next to him. She gave him a smile and saw his eyebrows quirk up slightly in return, his usual expression of curiosity. "Good day so far, I hope?"

"Things are hectic, my duties are different than before but not more stressful or time consuming," he sighed.

"More sitting around and talking and less taking knives to the shoulder?" She got him to grin with that one, and grinned with him.

"Yes, less knives, but equally painful. Hopefully your morning has been far more interesting than mine, your week even."

Caislyn looked down at her plate, lacking the appetite to eat what the servants had present them with. "Well… I did get some interesting news recently…" Murtagh glanced at her as he began to eat, noting her expression and how she kept her eyes ducked. He didn't prod her to continue, not verbally, but it was plenty clear with the link they shared that he was curious, and wary. "I… I believe I'm pregnant."

Murtagh, to his credit, did not choke on his food. He did, however, lose the grip he had on his utensil and freeze. She didn't dare look at him still, which gave him a chance to recovery, drink something, clear his throat, and attempt a response. "Have you confirmed it with anyone?"

Caislyn gave him a blank look, confused, and for a moment Murtagh was worried he had offended her with his… disbelief? Or maybe she just didn't understand. "We have people, physicians, who can check." She looked horrified for a moment and Murtagh rushed to continue, flushed and embarrassed he of all people had to have this conversation with a woman. "They check by… gently pressing on the lower areas of your stomach…" He tried, taking an interest in his plate as his hands broke out in a cold sweat.

"Oh… where could I find such a… physician?" Murtagh met her eyes, worried and excited despite himself. He would make a terribly father, which he knew Caislyn would try to argue against vehemently, but that didn't mean he didn't _want _to be a dad. He had always wanted children, just one, to raise them completely differently than his father had raised he.

Murtagh gave her a nervous smile, surprising her, "eat, I will take you after breakfast."

"Your meetings-"

"The nobles can piss off; my wife's having a baby."

* * *

Saphira laid in the grass, listening to her hatchlings playing around her tail as she dozed in and out of sleep on her belly. Eragon was just inside the open door trading playful banter and laughter with Rhonny as they prepared something special to eat, though Saphira was not aware of any special occasion to be celebrated. So she left them to it, content to wait for Shruikan as the sun beat down from directly above, warming her back and her wings cast out to either side of her body.

His arrival was announced with a steady thunder of wing beats, and then a deep thud when his back feet landed on the ground a short distance away on the other side of the modest sized building. Shruikan made his way around and immediately ran the ridges of his face against the top of her head when he was close enough. Saphira peaked out from beneath her first eyelid, grinned in her usual human way, and moved to make room for him. _Fancy meeting you here, stranger. _

_Mmm, are all the strangers in the Empire as lovely as you? _He set to licking her nose and her cheeks with his scratchy tongue, quickly moving toward her neck and her shoulder blades.

Saphira hummed and leaned into him, noticing that her hatchlings eagerly ran around to investigate what Shruikan was doing to her scales. They were both chirping and purring at his presence, which made her proud. _Maybe a few of us, _she responded.

_If I find someone who can compare, I will certainly tell you, _Shruikan teased, giving her hard scales one final lick before simply laying his head down next to hers.

Saphira licked the edge of his lips playfully, drawing a purr out of him. _What are you doing here? You told me you were coming but not why. _

_I need a reason? Yes, I suppose I do. I came to see you, my dear. _

Saphira opened one eye to look at him but found his own eyes closed, so the expression was lost to him. _Just me._

_Our children too._

_Our? _She goaded, and Shruikan's eyes snapped open.

Once he confirmed she was indeed teasing him, he relaxed again. _Yes, our children. They are as important to me as the kingdom Galbatorix left behind, if not more._

Saphira was pleasantly surprised, blinking once before humming loudly for him to hear her appreciation. _Funny you say that, _she answered after a few minutes of silence.

_Hm? _He was close to sleep but still attention, if not a bit groggy due to the sun heating his back.

_When Eragon and I started out… we thought you were the ones we had to fear most. _

Shruikan lifted his head, eyes open once again. He wasn't shocked in the least, knowing the Blue Rider had been terrified of Galbatorix long before Saphira had hatched under his palm. _Funny how things change, _he sighed, licking the top of her head.

Saphira opened her eyes to look up at him. _We're going to be okay, aren't we?_

_More than okay._

* * *

**And so it ends. Hopefully I entertained you all. **

**Until next time (yes I already have another Inheritance Cycle fanfiction planned),**

**Cad~**


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